7
How long with · nothing in the ruinous heat,
clams
&
acorns ·stomaching, distinction
perishing,
at
which
my heart rose,
with
brackish water, we would
sing.
When whispers knew the Governor's last bread
was browning in his oven, we were discourag'd.
The Lady Arbella dying-
dyings- at which my heart rose, but I did submit.
8
That beyond the Atlantic wound our woes enlarge
is hard, hard that starvation burnishes our fear,
but I do gloss for You.
Strangers
&
pilgrims fare we here,
declaring we seek a City. Shall we be deceived?
I know whom I have trusted,
&
whom I have believed,
and that he is ,able to
keep that I have committed to his charge.
9
Winter than summer worse, that first; like a file
on a quick, or the poison suck of a thrilled tooth;
and
still
we may unpack.
Wolves
&
storms among, uncouth .
board-pieces, boxes, barrels vanish, grow
houses,
rise.
Motes that hop in sunlight slow
indoors, and I am Ruth
away: open
my
mouth, my eyes wet: I w6uld
smile:
10
vellum I palm, and dream. Their forest dies
to greensward, privets,
elms
&
towers, whence
a nightingale
is
throbbing.
Women sleep sound. I
was
happy once . .
(Something keeps on not happening; I
shrink?)
These minutes all their passions
&
powers
sink
and
I am not one chance
for an
unknown
cry or a flicker of unknown
eyes.
491
