The Spider As An Artist Has Never

The Truth I Do Not Dare To Know I Muffle With A Jest.

Not One Of All The Purple Host Who Took The Flag To-day Can Tell The Definition So Clear Of Victory, As He, Defeated, Dying, On Whose Forbidden Ear The Distant Strains Of Triumph Break Agonized And Clear.

I Dwell In Possibilities... A Fairer House Than Prose.

This Is The Hour Of Lead- Remembered, If Outlived, As Freezing Persons, Recollect The Snow- First-chill-then Stupor- Then The Letting Go---

A Great Hope Fell You Heard No Noise The Ruin Was Within.