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Poem	What, younger, felt was possible, now knows is not - but still not chanted enough - Walked by the sea, unchanged in memory - evening, as clouds on the far-off rim of water float, pictures of time, smoke, faintness - still the dream. I want, if older, still to know why, human, men and women are so torn, so lost, why hopes cannot find better world than this. Shelley is dead and gone, who said, "Taught them not this - to know themselves; their might could not repress the mutiny within, And for the morn of truth they feigned, deep night Caught them ere evening . . ."
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