We play at paste,

For the one ship that struts the shoreMany’s the gallant—overwhelmed CreatureNodding in Navies nevermore—

Paid after they have ceased to workIn Infamy or Urn –

Written by faded menAt the suggestion of Holy Spectres—Subjects—Bethlehem— ;Eden—the ancient Homestead—Satan—the Brigadier—Judas—the Great Defaulter—David—the Troubador—Sin—a distinguished PrecipiceOthers must resist—Boys that ‘believe’ are very lonesome—Other Boys are ‘lost’—Had but the Tale a warbling Teller—All the Boys would come—Orpheus’ Sermon captivated—It did not condemn—

I sow my pageantryIn May—It rises train by train—Then sleeps in state again—My chancel—all the plainToday.To lose—if one can find again—To miss—if one shall meet—The Burglar cannot rob—then—The Broker cannot cheat.So build the hillocks gailyThou little spade of mineLeaving nooks for DaisyAnd for Columbine—You and I the secretOf the Crocus know—Let us chant it softly—‘There…

Of individual Voice—As One detect on LandingsAn Emigrant’s address.A Hint of Ports and Peoples—And much not understood—The fairer—for the farness—And for the foreignhood.

And went against the World—‘Twas not so much as David—had—But I—was twice as bold—I aimed by Pebble—but MyselfWas all the one that fell—Was it Goliath—was too large—Or was myself—too small?