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‘Tis frequently the Way—Surpasses all that rose before—For utter Jubilee—As Nature did not care—And piled her Blossoms on—And further to parade a JoyHer Victim stared upon—The Birds declaim their Tunes—Pronouncing every wordLike Hammers—Did they know they fellLike Litanies of Lead—On here and there—a creature—They’d modify the GleeTo fit some Crucifixal Clef—Some Key of Calvary—

That fine ProsperityWhose Sources are interior—As soon—AdversityA Diamond—overtakeIn far—Bolivian Ground—Misfortune hath no implementCould mar it—if it found—

Ah! Indeed!May this ‘dishonor’ be?If I were half so fine myselfI’d notice nobody!‘Sown in corruption’!Not so fast!Apostle is askew!Corinthians 1. 15. narratesA Circumstance or two!

Than Ordinary Breath—Lit with a finer Phosphor—Requiring in the Quench—A Power of Renowned Cold,The Climate of the GraveA Temperature just adequateSo Anthracite, to live—For some—an Ampler Zero—A Frost more needle keenIs necessary, to reduceThe Ethiop within.Others—extinguish easier—A Gnat’s minutest FanSufficient to obliterateA Tract of Citizen—Whose Peat lift—amply vivid—Ignores the solemn NewsThat Popocatapel exists—Or Etna’s Scarlets,…

Till we—are stouter—What they—renounced—Till we—are less afraid—How many times they—bore the faithful witness—Till we—are helped—As if a Kingdom—cared!Read then—of faith—That shone above the fagot—Clear strains of HymnThe River could not drown—Brave names of Men—And Celestial Women—Passed out—of RecordInto—Renown!

Whose forces Spheric windUntil the Velvet productDrop spicy to the ground—A homelier maturing—A process in the Bur—That teeth of Frosts alone discloseIn far October Air.