love poems

let us pity those who are better off than we are
long ago, in the young moonlight
high-born race
what was it the engines said
have we no shame?
i saw the archangels in my apple-tree last night
i am in love with high far-seeing places
a poet, having taken the bridle off his tongue
beneath my window in a city street
why so sad my lovely one?
muffled drum's sad roll has beat
when the hours of day are numbered