The Soul has Bandaged moments - When too appalled to stir - She feels some ghastly Fright come up And stop to look at her - Salute her, with long fingers - Caress her freezing hair - Sip, Goblin, from the very lips The Lover - hovered - o'er - Unworthy, that a thought so mean Accost a Theme - so - fair -
The soul has moments of Escape - When bursting all the doors - She dances like a Bomb, abroad, And swings upon the Hours,
As do the Bee - delirious borne - Long Dungeoned from his Rose - Touch Liberty - then know no more, But Noon, and Paradise -
The Soul's retaken moments - When, Felon led along, With shackles on the plumed feet, And staples, in the Song,
The Horror welcomes her, again, These, are not brayed of Tongue.
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