AT the last, tenderly,
From the walls of the powerful, fortress'd house,
From the clasp of the knitted locks--from the keep of the well-closed
AS if a phantom caress'd me,
I thought I was not alone, walking here by the shore;
But the one I thought was with me, as now I walk by the shore--the
AS the time draws nigh, glooming, a cloud,
A dread beyond, of I know not what, darkens me.
Come, said my soul,
Such verses for my body let us write, (For we are One),
That should I after death invisibly return,
Or, long, long hence, in other spheres,
AH poverties, wincings, and sulky retreats!
Ah you foes that in conflict have overcome me!
(For what is my life, or any man's life, but a conflict with foes--
Always our own feuillage!
Always Florida's green peninsula! Always the priceless delta of
I WAS asking for something specific and perfect for my city,
Whereupon, lo! upsprang the aboriginal name!
FAR hence, amid an isle of wondrous beauty,
Crouching over a grave, an ancient, sorrowful mother,
Once a queen--now lean and tatter'd, seated on the ground,
BY the bivouac's fitful flame,
A procession winding around me, solemn and sweet and slow;--but first