For a Greek Ending This is the wayside seat an old tramp made At the dusk end of an August afternoon; Baking an old potato while he played An idle tattoo with an ivory spoon. I wondered at his...
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A leaf moved up on me, like a tattered old sailor dropped from
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Grey-cheeked, tobacco-browned, vaguely musty of cargoes...
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June 5, 1929 THE COMMONWEAL 129 Perspective Prostrate on the shoulder of this rock, itself shouldered on the mountains, the shoulders of the world, You can be carried past all the stars...
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