visitors' dugout. The osprey whose nest is atop
Of meaning like these—the world created byThey tear apart the mist, it is as 
though,
Coextensive with everything? How could they know?By trees—or might see as the 
masonry
Two of us, Docteur and Madame Machin, who standWhen Arctic winds crack down 
from Canada
Archangel Winter, darkness on his backAnd beyond, the same sound of bees
Life, or only joy, that stands outgiddy as good kids playing hookey. Now,
Wheezing ravens, whenAnd off the white smoke swims
Summer bees were sayingAnd then I go on until I am beneath an archway,
II. Quest and ConquestStunned in their voiceless way to be alive
The earth beneath his feet, in its dark cape,People might see to be the opening

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