713
Fame of Myself, to justify,
All other Plaudit be
Superfluous—An Incense
Beyond Necessity—

Drowning is not so pitiful
As the attempt to rise.
Three times, 't is said, a sinking
Comes up to face the skies,
And then declines forever

Presentment is that long shadow on
Indicative that suns go down;
The notice to the startled grass
That darkness is about to pass.

I DIED for beauty, but was scarc
Adjusted in the tomb,
When one who died for truth was la
In an adjoining room.
He questioned softly why I failed

Shall I take thee, the Poet said
To the propounded word?
Be stationed with the Candidates
Till I have finer tried—
The Poet searched Philology

“Unto Me?” I do not know you’—
Where may be your House?
“I am Jesus’—Late of Judea’—
Now’—of Paradise"'—
Wagons’—have you’—to convey me?

354
From Cocoon forth a Butterfly
As Lady from her Door
Emerged—a Summer Afternoon—
Repairing Everywhere—

758
These’—saw Visions’—
Latch them softly’—
These’—held Dimples’—
Smooth them slow’—

I NEVER hear the word “escape”
Without a quicker blood,
A sudden expectation,
A flying attitude.
  

325
Of Tribulation, these are They,
Denoted by the White—
The Spangled Gowns, a lesser Ran
Of Victors—designate—