925

Struck, was I, not yet by Lightning
Lightning—lets away
Power to perceive His Process
With Vitality

Maimed—was I—yet not by Venture
Stone of stolid Boy
Nor a Sportsman's Peradventure
Who mine Enemy?

Robbed—was I—intact to Bandit
All my Mansion torn
Sun—withdrawn to Recognition
Furthest shining—done

Yet was not the foe—of any
Not the smallest Bird
In the nearest Orchard dwelling
Be of Me—afraid

Most—I love the Cause that slew Me
Often as I die
Its beloved Recognition
Holds a Sun on Me
Best—at Setting—as is Nature's
Neither witnessed Rise
Till the infinite Aurora
In the other's eyes