1 Look at the stars! look, look up at the skies! 2 O look at all the fire-folk sitting in the air! 3 The bright boroughs, the circle-citadels there! 4 Down in dim woods the diamond delves! the elves'-eyes! 5 The grey lawns cold where gold, where quickgold lies! 6 Wind-beat whitebeam! airy abeles set on a flare! 7 Flake-doves sent floating forth at a farmyard scare! 8 Ah well! it is all a purchase, all is a prize. 9 Buy then! bid then! — What? — Prayer, patience, alms, vows. 10 Look, look: a May-mess, like on orchard boughs! 11 Look! March-bloom, like on mealed-with-yellow sallows! 12 These are indeed the barn; withindoors house 13 The shocks. This piece-bright paling shuts the spouse 14 Christ home, Christ and his mother and all his hallows.
“Buy then!” shocks.
We move from apostrophe to the scene of an auction-house, gold coins raining?
Stars as infinite money, the capitalist sum-game, with no zero, but all.
“all a purchase, all is a prize.” I think of neuralink.
What are the “grey lawns”?
What are abeles?
White (silver) poplars.
and the word “withindoors.”
What is quickgold?