"A gray eye is a sly eye, And roguish is a brown one; Turn full upon me thy eye,— Ah, how its wavelets drown one! A blue eye is a true eye; Mysterious is a dark one, Which flashes like a spark-sun! A black eye is the best one."

"Fill up the goblet and reach to me some! Drinking makes wise, but dry fasting makes glum."

"An Arab, by his earnest gaze, Has clothed a lovely maid with blushes; A smile within his eyelids plays And into words his longing gushes."

"Ten poor men sleep in peace on one straw heap, as Saadi sings, But the immensest empire is too narrow for two kings."

"In the nine heavens are eight Paradises; Where is the ninth one? In the human breast. Only the blessed dwell in th' Paradises, But blessedness dwells in the human breast."

"The best aphorisms are pointed expressions of the results of observation, experience, and reflection. They are portable wisdom, the quintessential extracts of thought and feeling. They furnish the largest amount of intellectual stimulus and nutriment in the smallest compass. About every weak point in human nature, or vicious spot in human life, there is deposited a crystallization of warning and protective proverbs."

"With strength and patience all his grievous loads are borne, And from the world's rose-bed he only asks a thorn."

"Beware the deadly fumes of that insane elation Which rises from the cup of mad impiety, And go, get drunk with that divine intoxication Which is more sober far than all sobriety."

"The moon is a silver pin-head vast, That holds the heaven's tent-hangings fast."

"With careless joy we thread the woodland ways And reach her broad domain. Thro' sense of strength and beauty, free as air. We feel our savage kin, And thus alone with conscious meaning wear The Indian's moccasin!"

"Skirting the rocks at the forest edge With a running flame from ledge to ledge, Or swaying deeper in shadowy glooms, A smoldering fire in her dusky blooms; Bronzed and molded by wind and sun, Maddening, gladdening every one With a gypsy beauty full and fine,— A health to the crimson columbine!"

"Nature lies disheveled, pale, With her feverish lips apart,— Day by day the pulses fail, Nearer to her bounding heart; Yet that slackened grasp doth hold Store of pure and genuine gold; Quick thou comest, strong and free, Type of all the wealth to be,— Goldenrod!"

"Death in the wood,— In the death-pale lips apart; Death in a whiteness that curdled the blood, Now black to the very heart: The wonder by her was formed Who stands supreme in power; To show that life by the spirit comes She gave us a soulless flower!"

"Pure and perfect, sweet arbutus Twines her rosy-tinted wreath."

"All the woodland path is broken By warm tints along the way, And the low and sunny slope Is alive with sudden hope When there comes the silent token Of an April day,— Blue hepatica!"

"I love the fair lilies and roses so gay, They are rich in their pride and their splendor; But still more do I love to wander away To the meadow so sweet, Where down at my feet, The harebell blooms modest and tender."

"Thy subtle charm is strangely given, My fancy will not let thee be, , Then poise not thus 'twixt earth and heaven, O white anemone!"

"And in the woods a fragrance rare Of wild azaleas fills the air, And richly tangled overhead We see their blossoms sweet and red."

"Whence is yonder flower so strangely bright? Would the sunset's last reflected shine Flame so red from that dead flush of light? Dark with passion is its lifted line, Hot, alive, amid the falling night."

"The starry, fragile windflower, Poised above in airy grace, Virgin white, suffused with blushes, Shyly droops her lovely face."

"Crimson clover I discover By the garden gate, And the bees about her hover, But the robins wait. Sing, robins, sing, Sing a roundelay,— 'Tis the latest flower of Spring Coming with the May!"

"The seal and guerdon of wealth untold We clasp in the wild marsh marigold."

"The Autumn wood the aster knows, The empty nest, the wind that grieves, The sunlight breaking thro' the shade, The squirrel chattering overhead, The timid rabbits lighter tread Among the rustling leaves."

"I saw on earth another light Than that which lit my eye Come forth as from my soul within, And from a higher sky."

"Wilt Thou not visit me? The plant beside me feels Thy gentle dew; And every blade of grass I see, From Thy deep earth its quickening moisture drew."

"'Twas brighter far than noonday's beam; It shone from God within, And lit, as by a lamp from heaven, The world's dark track of sin."

"The world doth ever change; there is no peace Among the shallows of its storm-vexed breast; With every breath the frothy waves increase, They toss up mire and dirt, they cannot rest; I thank Thee that within thy strong-built ark My soul across the uncertain sea can sail, And though the night of death be long and dark, My hopes in Christ shall reach within the veil; And to the promised haven steady steer, Whose rest to those who love is ever near."

"I saw a worm, with many a fold; It spun itself a silken tomb; And there in winter time enrolled, It heeded not the cold or gloom."

"I see them, crowd on crowd they walk the earth, Dry leafless trees no autumn wind laid bare; And in their nakedness find cause for mirth, And all unclad would winter's rudeness dare; No sap doth through their clattering branches flow, Whence springing leaves and blossoms bright appear; Their hearts the living God have ceased to know, Who gives the springtime to th' expectant year."

"Come! for I need Thy love, More than the flower the dew, or grass the rain; Come like Thy Holy Dove, And let me in Thy sight rejoice to live again."

"God walked alone unhonored through the earth; For Him no heart-built temple open stood, The soul forgetful of her nobler birth Had hewn him lofty shrines of stone and wood, And left unfinished and in ruins still The only temple he delights to fill."

"They borrow words for thoughts they cannot feel"

"I cannot hear thy voice with others' ears, Who make of thy lost liberty a gain; And in thy tale of blighted hopes and fears Feel not that every note is born with pain."

"In the early 1960s Denise Levertov introduced me to the work of Creeley, Duncan, and Olson. Also, of course, Williams, though I'd read him a bit before. But my own life, also, was pushing me into kinds of poetry I hadn't written before. Over the years, I was to draw in my own way on their (very different) poetics, but more on the poetry itself. The title and epigraph of The Will to Change are from Olson's "The Kingfishers.""

"He (Bob Creeley) introduced me to Charles Olson, Allen Ginsberg-and Ginsberg has been a major model of mine. Olson has been a major model."

"with what violence benevolence is bought what cost in gesture justice brings what wrongs domestic rights involve what stalks this silence"

"And all now is war Where so lately there was peace, and the sweet brotherhood, the use of tilled fields."

"The legends are legends. Dead, hung up indoors, the kingfisher will not indicate a favoring wind, or avert the thunderbolt. Nor, by its nesting, still the waters, with the new year, for seven days. It is true, it does nest with the opening year, but not on the waters."

"When the attentions change / the jungle leaps in even the stones are split they rive"

"Not one death but many, not accumulation but change, the feed-back proves, the feed-back is the law"

"When I saw him, he was at the door, but it did not matter, he was already sliding along the wall of the night, losing himself in some crack of the ruins. That it should have been he who said, “The kingfishers! who cares for their feathers now?” His last words had been, “The pool is slime.”"

"We can be precise. The factors are in the animal and / or the machine the factors are communication and / or control, both involve the message. And what is the message? The message is a discrete or continuous sequence of measurable events distributed in time is the birth of the air, is the birth of water, is a state between the origin and the end, between birth and the beginning of another fetid nest is change, presents no more than itself And the too strong grasping of it, when it is pressed together and condensed, loses itThis very thing you are"

"What does not change / is the will to change"

"No pent-up Utica contracts your powers, But the whole boundless continent is yours."