fall poem

i saw the archangels in my apple-tree last night
i made a vow once, one only
along the banks
let us pity those who are better off than we are
under dusky laurel leaf
a gleam of gold in gloom and gray
to be able to see every side of every question
she knows a cheap release
long ago, in the young moonlight
no prey am i of poor thoughts
in all things not spoken of
good woman
when i was broke in london
like him whose spirit in the blaze of noon