And in my wondering hand
A Stranger pressed a Kingdom,
And I, bewildered, stand—
As if I asked the Orient
Had it for me a Morn—
And it should lift its purple Dikes,
And shatter me with Dawn!
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1510
That rambles in the Road alone,And doesn’t care about CareersAnd Exigencies never fears—Whose Coat of elemental BrownA passing Universe put on,And independent as the SunAssociates or glows alone,Fulfilling absolute DecreeIn casual simplicity—
884
With Ropes of SandTo keep it from effacingThe Track called Land.
395
That fine ProsperityWhose Sources are interior—As soon—AdversityA Diamond—overtakeIn far—Bolivian Ground—Misfortune hath no implementCould mar it—if it found—
139
By just such a hazardHundreds have lost indeed—But tens have won an all—Angel’s breathless ballotLingers to record thee—Imps in eager CaucusRaffle for my Soul!
Could Hope inspect her Basis
Has a fictitious CharterOr it has none –Balked in the vastest instanceBut to renew –Felled by but one assassin –Prosperity –
767
To Lives that stand alone—When One has failed to stop them—Is Human—but DivineTo lend an Ample SinewUnto a Nameless Man—Whose Homely BenedictionNo other—stopped to earn—