I would bathe myself in strangeness: These comforts heaped upon me, smother me! I burn, I scald so for the new, New friends, new faces, Places! Oh to be out of this, This that is all I wanted -- save the new. And you, Love, you the much, the more desired! Do I not loathe all walls, streets, stones, All mire, mist, all fog, All ways of traffic? You, I would have flow over me like water, Oh, but far out of this! Grass, and low fields, and hills, And sun, Oh, sun enough! Out, and alone, among some Alien people! | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...CHILD MARGARET by CARL SANDBURG MATER IN EXTREMIS by JEAN STARR UNTERMEYER THE EARLY MORNING by HILAIRE BELLOC TO A HUMMING BIRD by GLADYS ARNE BY THE SALPETRIERE by THOMAS ASHE CYNTHIA SLEEPING IN A GARDEN; A SONNET by PHILIP AYRES |