195

For this — accepted Breath
Through it — compete with Death
The fellow cannot touch this Crown
By it — my title take
Ah, what a royal sake
To my necessity — stooped down!

No Wilderness — can be
Where this attendeth me
No Desert Noon
No fear of frost to come
Haunt the perennial bloom
But Certain June!

Get Gabriel — to tell — the royal syllable
Get Saints — with new — unsteady tongue
To say what trance below
Most like their glory show
Fittest the Crown!