Of ready drawn arrows to count I
my reckoning days more bright,
covered with snow in stardust of Supernova;
away from e'ery wanton look to my eyes so blind,
...
Oft I make hallow of a sun around my head,
tinged with stars of old in deep azure
of broken mast-shaft at north;
the four-squared wall on high o'er the lagoon,
...
Thus, half so ill my distempered brain, doctor's folly-like,
Pestilence of vague impressions by far removed from thee;
Twice so sickening to the bones, my love, of ages that are dead,
That grows upon e'ery fig leaf in autumn wind,
...
O! give me a heart of such soaring looks
to a far-fetched sky my untread dreams
of smokey suburbs by the shabby island;
I can still behold in stardust of Supernova,
...
Me not much accustomed to such darkly insights,
that in modern electra of thy most high deserts,
of eyes so blind through e'ery pouring shadow at break of day arise,
that crow's quill of plumed hat on knees in ruffled feathers,
...
I'll not show you the rosy picture
of that village girl dressed in muslin;
and in whose fabric of subtle thought
this adobe of a dream by night,
...
Of unsaid word too deep for woe,
that by writing more
of people from around the world,
I, too, find myself at odds with what I least contend,
...
Of transient nature's eclipsed doom
to bloody tyrant time,
that in waste of words goes blind
of what I write through e'ery pouring shadow
...
See! how this world too but barred of such looks,
that in silent hours of the night,
half-dumb, half-poisoned to the ear in ill-omen;
hath rendered numb my novice feeling
...