TO ANTHONY BUTTS.

Brother, I bring you truth, shall truth take on
Lies property? O little lance-bright heart
Well may it be that your part
Is one with your Mother's robust and excellent way,
Her ruth and simpleness
And cold blind staring,
Her fine observances
Terror of daring
And waxen fruit dust-choked.....
And well may you thus yoked
Shrink from the ice-steel edge,
The thin and piercing poignard of fine gold
Wherewith reality
Shall doubly wound you...Brave
Brother, not me ... not me...
You shall not follow
Banners on the trees
I only set where you must pass and in the breeze
Swaying you read
"Flesh of your flesh, your sister passed this way,
A singer an adventurer a lover; ;
Her feet were bruised , and yours

Shall halt, Walk lightly here,
And there!
Strike in the name of God!

I have small counsel, Brother,
(Deal gently with our Mother)
Pour out your life in each sharp hour nor stay
Your hand at fashioning
In white, in scarlet, and in violet
(The long night flies, the cruel stars are set)
The banners of the day.