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Of such a little Dog am IReminded by a BoyWho gambols all the living DayWithout an earthly causeBecause he is a little BoyI honestly suppose –The Cat that in the Corner dwellsHer martial Day forgotThe Mouse but a Tradition nowOf her desireless LotAnother class remind meWho neither please nor playBut not to make a ‘bit…

Proud of my night, since thou, with moons, dos’t shake it.Not to partake thy passion, -my humilityThou can’st not boast, like Jesus, drunken without companionWas the strong cup of anguish brewed for the NazareneThou can’st not pierce tradition with the peerless puncture,See! I usurped thy crucifix to honor mine!

Across a barn or through a rutDebates if it will go.A narrow wind complains all dayHow some one treated him;Nature, like us, is sometimes caughtWithout her diadem.

I was used—to the Birds—before—This—was different—’Twas Translation—Of all tunes I knew—and more—‘Twasn’t contained—like other stanza—No one could play it—the second time—But the Composer—perfect Mozart—Perish with him—that Keyless Rhyme!So—Children—told how Brooks in Eden—Bubbled a better—Melody—Quaintly infer—Eve’s great surrender—Urging the feet—that would—not—fly—Children—matured—are wiser—mostly—Eden—a legend—dimly told—Eve—and the Anguish—Grandame’s story—But—I was telling a tune—I heard—Not such a strain—the Church—baptizes—When…

And like the Trees, look down—The smoke all cleared away from it—And Mirrors on the scene—Just laying light—no soul will winkExcept it have the flaw—The Sound ones, like the Hills—shall stand—No Lighting, scares away—The Perfect, nowhere be afraid—They bear their dauntless Heads,Where others, dare not go at Noon,Protected by their deeds—The Stars dare shine occasionallyUpon…

Doth seldom go abroad—Diviner Crowd at Home—Obliterate the need—And Courtesy forbidA Host’s departure whenUpon Himself be visitingThe Emperor of Men—