(1)
Green eyes from under cornsheaf curls
  Dart out at him, belated
Masks of alarming Orpheus, gaping
  And uncoordinated.

In dreams, in dreams . . . It is not true
  They haunt the familiar Loir,
Capering their black classics of
  Provence and Navarre.

Why then should laurels above the acclaimed
  Brow and the haggard face
Divulge a restive Athenian, half
  In love with incult Thrace?

(2) 'Dieu les tient agitez . . .
'These-of whom only four or five are known
To have existed, mostly Greek-aspire
Not to the style of poet, but the stele
...