When I went up to Haworth there was peace
Between my teeth. An ordinary heart
Beat. My ordinary hands moved easily.

Crossing the land in a train, I passed through
the borderless townlets of sprawled New York
rising red brick out of nothing after

Through the veiled hush of the nut garden, God
was walking in the cool of the day; He
felt like talking again to a mortal

These good New Yorkers bent low over books
deserve a Paradise of softer chairs
and sleep, their heads against that fringed and white