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...

The Soul should always stand ajar

That if the Heaven inquire

He will not be obliged to wait

Or shy of troubling Her


Depart, before the Host have slid

The Bolt unto the Door —

To search for the accomplished Guest,

Her Visitor, no more —

The Soul unto itself

Is an imperial friend —

Or the most agonizing Spy —

An Enemy — could send —


Secure against its own —

No treason it can fear —

Itself — its Sovereign — of itself

The Soul should stand in Awe —

The Soul's Superior instants

Occur to Her — alone —

When friend — and Earth's occasion

Have infinite withdrawn —


Or She — Herself — ascended

To too remote a Height

For lower Recognition

Than Her Omnipotent —


This Mortal Abolition

Is seldom — but as fair...