Fame is a fickle food

Were Universe—one Rock—And fr I heard his silver CallThe other side the Block—I’d tunnel—till my GroovePushed sudden thro’ to his—Then my face take her Recompense—The looking in his Eyes—But ’tis a single Hair—A filament—a law—A Cobweb—wove in Adamant—A Battlement—of Straw—A limit like the VeilUnto the Lady’s face—But every Mesh—a Citadel—And Dragons—in the Crease—

I came upon a Worm—Pink, lank and warm—But as he was a wormAnd worms presumeNot quite with him at home—Secured him by a stringTo something neighboringAnd went along.A Trifle afterwardA thing occurredI’d not believe it if I heardBut state with creeping blood—A snake with mottles rareSurveyed my chamber floorIn feature as the worm beforeBut ringed…

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—

The East—Her Purple TrothKeeps with the Hill—The Noon unwinds Her BlueTill One Breadth cover Two—Remotest—still—Nor does the Night forgetA Lamp for Each—to set—Wicks wide away—The North—Her blazing SignErects in Iodine—Till Both—can see—The Midnight’s Dusky ArmsClasp Hemispheres, and HomesAnd soUpon Her Bosom—One—And One upon Her Hem—Both lie—

If only to enclose the SaintsTo Affidavit given.The Missionary to the MoleMust prove there is a SkyLocation doubtless he would pleadBut what excuse have I?Too much of Proof affronts BeliefThe Turtle will not tryUnless you leave him – then returnAnd he has hauled away.

Before it was imperative‘Twas all distinct to me –