Can the ecstasy define’—
Half a transport’—half a trouble’—
With which flowers humble men:
Anybody find the fountain
From which floods so contra flow’—
I will give him all the Daisies
Which upon the hillside blow.
Too much pathos in their faces
For a simple breast like mine’—
Butterflies from St. Domingo
Cruising round the purple line’—
Have a system of aesthetics’—
Far superior to mine.