By this—was William Kidd
Persuaded of the Buried Gold—
As One had testified—
Through this—the old Philosopher—
His Talismanic Stone
Discernéd—still withholden
To effort undivine—
‘Twas this—allured Columbus—
When Genoa—withdrew
Before an Apparition
Baptized America—
The Same—afflicted Thomas—
When Deity assured
‘Twas better—the perceiving not—
Provided it believed—
Two—be finished using—Well enough for Schools—But for Minor Choosing—Life—just—or Death—Or the Everlasting—More—would be too vastFor the Soul’s Comprising—
Because—because if he should dieWhile I was gone—and I—too late—Should reach the Heart that wanted me—If I should disappoint the eyesThat hunted—hunted so—to see—And could not bear to shut untilThey ‘noticed’ me—they noticed me—If I should stab the patient faithSo sure I’d come—so sure I’d come—It listening—listening—went to sleep—Telling my tardy name—My Heart would wish…
Is there such a thing as ‘Day’?Could I see it from the mountainsIf I were as tall as they?Has it feet like Water lilies?Has it feathers like a Bird?Is it brought from famous countriesOf which I have never heard?Oh some Scholar! Oh some Sailor!Oh some Wise Men from the skies!Please to tell a little PilgrimWhere…
Therein thyself shalt findThe ‘Undiscovered Continent’—No Settler had the Mind.
Their Glory—nought to me—‘Twas best imperfect—as it was—I’m finite—I can’t see—The House of Supposition—The Glimmering Frontier thatSkirts the Acres of Perhaps—To Me—shows insecure—The Wealth I had—contented me—If ’twas a meaner size—Then I had counted it untilIt pleased my narrow Eyes—Better than larger values—That show however true—This timid life of EvidenceKeeps pleading—’I don’t know.’
Dynasties repaired—Systems—settled in their Sockets—Citadels—dissolved—Wastes of Lives—resown with ColorsBy Succeeding Springs—Death—unto itself—Exception—Is exempt from Change—
