Songs (V)

E. E. Cummings - 1894-1962
All in green went my love riding 
on a great horse of gold 
into the silver dawn.

four lean hounds crouched low and smiling 
the merry deer ran before. 

Fleeter be they than dappled dreams 
the swift sweet deer 
the red rare deer. 

Four red roebuck at a white water 
the cruel bugle sang before. 

Horn at hip went my love riding 
riding the echo down 
into the silver dawn. 

four lean hounds crouched low and smiling 
the level meadows ran before. 

Softer be they than slippered sleep 
the lean lithe deer 
the fleet flown deer. 

Four fleet does at a gold valley 
the famished arrow sang before. 

Bow at belt went my love riding 
riding the mountain down 
into the silver dawn. 

four lean hounds crouched low and smiling 
the sheer peaks ran before. 

Paler be they than daunting death 
the sleek slim deer 
the tall tense deer. 

Four tall stags at a green mountain 
the lucky hunter sang before. 

All in green went my love riding 
on a great horse of gold 
into the silver dawn. 

four lean hounds crouched low and smiling 
my heart fell dead before.

More by E. E. Cummings

Chansons Innocentes: I

in Just-
spring       when the world is mud-
luscious the little
lame balloonman

whistles       far       and wee

and eddieandbill come 
running from marbles and 
piracies and it's 
spring 

when the world is puddle-wonderful

the queer 
old balloonman whistles
far       and        wee
and bettyandisbel come dancing

from hop-scotch and jump-rope and

it's 
spring
and 
        the

                goat-footed

balloonMan      whistles
far
and 
wee

Buffalo Bill ’s

Buffalo Bill ’s
defunct
               who used to
               ride a watersmooth-silver
                                                              stallion
and break onetwothreefourfive pigeonsjustlikethat
                                                                                              Jesus
he was a handsome man
                                            and what i want to know is
how do you like your blueeyed boy
Mister Death

the Cambridge ladies who live in furnished souls

the Cambridge ladies who live in furnished souls
are unbeautiful and have comfortable minds
(also, with the church's protestant blessings
daughters, unscented shapeless spirited)
they believe in Christ and Longfellow,both dead,
are invariably interested in so many things-
at the present writing one still finds
delighted fingers knitting for the is it Poles?
perhaps.   While permanent faces coyly bandy
scandal of Mrs. N and Professor D
....the Cambridge ladies do not care,above
Cambridge if sometimes in its box of
sky lavender and cornerless, the
moon rattles like a fragment of angry candy