Of Bronze - and Blaze - The North - Tonight - So adequate - it forms - So preconcerted with itself - So distant - to alarms - And Unconcern so sovereign To Universe, or me - Infects my simple spirit With Taints of Majesty - Till I take vaster attitudes - And strut upon my stem - Disdaining Men, and Oxygen, For Arrogance of them - My Splendors, are Menagerie - But their Completeless Show Will entertain the Centuries When I, am long ago, An Island in dishonored Grass - Whom none but Daisies, know.
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