290

Of Bronze—and Blaze
The North—Tonight
So adequate—it forms
So preconcerted with itself
So distant—to alarms
And Unconcern so sovereign
To Universe, or me
Infects my simple spirit
With Taints of Majesty
Till I take vaster attitudes
And strut upon my stem
Disdaining Men, and Oxygen
For Arrogance of them

My Splendors, are Menagerie
But their Completeless Show
Will entertain the Centuries
When I, am long ago
An Island in dishonored Grass
Whom none but Beetles—know