A dead shepherd brought tremendous chords from hell<p>And bad the sheep carouse. Or so they said. Children in love with them brought early flowers An… - Wallace Stevens

With six meats and twelve wines or else without To walk another room...Monsieur and comrade, The soldier is poor without the poet’s lines.

Then the sea and heaven rolled as one and from the two came fresh transfigurings of freshest blue.

"Bantams in Pine-Woods"

Chieftain Iffucan of Azcan in caftan
Of tan with henna hackles, halt!

Damned universal cock, as if the sun
Was blackamoor to bear your blazing tail.

Fat! Fat! Fat! Fat! I am the personal.
Your world is you. I am my world.

You ten-foot poet among inchlings. Fat!
Begone! An inchling bristles in these pines,

Bristles, and points their Appalachian tangs,
And fears not portly Azcan nor his hoos.