One and One — are One —
Two — be finished using —
Well enough for Schools —
But for Minor Choosing —
Life — just — or Death —
Or the Everlasting —
More — would be too vast
For the Soul's Comprising —
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One Blessing had I than the rest
So larger to my Eyes
That I stopped gauging — satisfied —
For this enchanted size —
It was the limit of my Dream —
The focus of my Prayer —
A perfect — paralyzing Bliss —
Contented as Despair —
I knew no more of Want — or Cold —
...One crown that no one seeks
And yet the highest head
Its isolation coveted
Its stigma deified
While Pontius Pilate lives
In whatsoever hell
That coronation pierces him
He recollects it well.One Crucifixion is recorded — only —
How many be
Is not affirmed of Mathematics —
Or History —
One Calvary — exhibited to Stranger —
As many be
As persons — or Peninsulas —
Gethsemane —
Is but a Province — in the Being's Centre —
Judea —
For...One Day is there of the Series
Termed Thanksgiving Day.
Celebrated part at Table
Part in Memory.
Neither Patriarch nor Pussy
I dissect the Play
Seems it to my Hooded thinking
Reflex Holiday.
Had there been no sharp Subtraction
From the early Sum —
...One Joy of so much anguish
Sweet nature has for me
I shun it as I do Despair
Or dear iniquity —
Why Birds, a Summer morning
Before the Quick of Day
Should stab my ravished spirit
With Dirks of Melody
Is part of an inquiry
That will receive reply
When Flesh...One Life of so much Consequence!
Yet I — for it — would pay —
My Soul's entire income —
In ceaseless — salary —
One Pearl — to me — so signal —
That I would instant dive —
Although — I knew — to take it —
Would cost me — just a life!
The Sea is full — I know it!
...One of the ones that Midas touched
Who failed to touch us all
Was that confiding Prodigal
The reeling Oriole —
So drunk he disavows it
With badinage divine —
So dazzling we mistake him
For an alighting Mine —
A Pleader — a Dissembler —
An Epicure — a Thief...One thing of it we borrow
And promise to return —
The Booty and the Sorrow
Its Sweetness to have known —
One thing of it we covet —
The power to forget —
The Anguish of the Avarice
Defrays the Dross of it —One Year ago — jots what?
God — spell the word! I — can't —
Was't Grace? Not that —
Was't Glory? That — will do —
Spell slower — Glory —
Such Anniversary shall be —
Sometimes — not often — in Eternity —
When farther Parted, than the Common Woe —
Look — feed upon each other's...