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That after Horror—that 'twas us
That passed the mouldering Pier
Just as the Granite Crumb let go
Our Savior, by a Hair

A second more, had dropped too deep
For Fisherman to plumb
The very profile of the Thought
Puts Recollection numb

The possibility—to pass
Without a Moment's Bell
Into Conjecture's presence
Is like a Face of Steel
That suddenly looks into ours
With a metallic grin
The Cordiality of Death
Who drills his Welcome in