Awake, Dear Heart, Awake. Thou Hast Slept

There's Neither Honesty, Manhood, Nor Good Fellowship In Thee.

Thou Weigh'st Thy Words Before Thou Givest Them Breath.

He's Loved Of The Distracted Multitude, Who Like Not In Their Judgement, But Their Eyes.

My Falcon Now Is Sharp And Passing Empty, And Till She Stoop She Must Not Be Full-gorged, For Then She Never Looks Upon Her Lure.

The People Are The City.