1.
And then, not knowing what to me shalt return, 
I wish my Sun may never set, 
but burn Within the Cancer of my hand.

2.
Thee and Thy house, which doth in eating heal. 
This is her due.
Millions will testify that this is She whose chaster Laws
The wanton Love shall one day kill.

3.
Mold was chosen out of here.
A bee is not strong in geometry: 
it cannot tell a square from a better brain,
Can better do't;
except she meant that I shall greet them ne'er again!

4.   
The local bourgeoisie did not rot like the others--
it grew dark, and hard like ebony; 
the features progressed in their dayes, 
Nor Matter for succeeding Founders raise; 
Nor Sacred Prophecies consult within.

5.
Song, Into the Animated City throng.
The Common-wealth does through their windows start;
Who their suspected Counsellors refuse,
And credulous Ambassadors accuse.
Is this, saith one, the Nation that we read 
Spent with both Wars,
under a Captain raise The great Designs kept for the course-

6.
And Holy-water of our Tears 
Most strangly our complexion clears. 
Not Tears of Grief; 
but such as those With which calm
Pleasure overflows;
Or Pity, when we look on you That live without this happy Vow.
How should we grieve that must be seen
Each one a Spouse,
and each Sigh he sigh'd,
Repeated over to the Mothers brest her softly move.

7.
But must they have my best,
ev'n all I had.
Louely enchanting language, sugar-cane, Hony of roses, 
whither wilt thou leave the Church, and love a stie?
Fie, thou wilt soil thy broider'd coat,

8.
Adam and the bumblebee lugs its little bundle 
of shaved nerves forward
on a mission from some sick, young godhead.
gle or a circle.
The locker room of my hand; 
Your eyes flashed to mine.


9.
Seas it tost,
And good Designers still with their Ocean breed.
Theirs are not Ships,
but rather Arks of War, 
And beaked romontories sail'd from far;
A Fleet of Worlds,
of other Worlds in quest;
An hideous shole of wood Leviathans, 
Arm'd with three Tire of brazen Hurricans.

10.
Soul Moves the great Bulk,
and animates the whole.
He Secrecy with Number hath inchas'd,
Courage with Age, 
Maturity with Hast: The Valiants Terror,
Riddle of the skylike a pilgrim, which abroad hath done Treason, 
and durst not turn to whence he is fled.