964

That stands for Deity, to Mine,Upon my side the Veil—Once witnessed of the Gauze—Its name is put awayAs far from mine, as if no plightHad printed yesterday,In tender—solemn Alphabet,My eyes just turned to see,When it was smuggled by my sightInto Eternity—More Hands—to hold—These are but Two—One more new-mailed NerveJust granted, for the Peril’s sake—Some striding—Giant—Love—So…

New fingers stir the sod—A Troubadour upon the ElmBetrays the solitude.New children play upon the green—New Weary sleep below—And still the pensive Spring returns—And still the punctual snow!

When sense from spirit files away,And subterfuge is done;When that which is and that which wasApart, intrinsic, stand,And this brief tragedy of fleshIs shifted like a sand;When figures show their royal frontAnd mists are carved sway,–Behold the atom I FeferredTo all the lists of clay!

Should be the Art—To save—Through Skill obtained in Themselves—The Science of the GraveNo Man can understandBut He that hath enduredThe Dissolution—in Himself—That Man—be qualifiedTo qualify DespairTo Those who failing new—Mistake Defeat for Death—Each time—Till acclimated—to—

What if I burst the fleshly Gate—And pass escaped—to thee!What if I file this Mortal—off—See where it hurt me—That’s enough—And wade in Liberty!They cannot take me—any more!Dungeons can call—and Guns imploreUnmeaning—now—to me—As laughter—was—an hour ago—Or Laces—or a Travelling Show—Or who died—yesterday!

A dim capacity for wingsDegrades the dress I wear.A power of butterfly must beThe aptitude to fly,Meadows of majesty concedesAnd easy sweeps of sky.So I must baffle at the hintAnd cipher at the sign,And make much blunder, if at lastI take the clew divine.