The Embankment

By T. E. HULME

the-embankment(The fantasia of a fallen gentleman on a cold, bitter night.)

Once, in finesse of fiddles found I ecstasy, 

In the flash of gold heels on the hard pavement. 

Now see I 

That warmth’s the very stuff of poesy. 

Oh, God, make small 

The old star-eaten blanket of the sky, 

That I may fold it round me and in comfort lie.

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