23
&
fever
&
Satan
&
Satan's ancient fere.
Pioneering is not feeling well,
not Indians, beasts.
Not all their riddling can forestall
one leaving. Sam, your uncle has had to
go fr6m us to live
with
God. 'Then Aunt went too?'
Dear,
she does wait still.
Stricken: 'Oh. Then he takes us one by one.' My dear. .
24
Forswearing it otherwise, they starch their minds.
Folkmoots,
&
blether, blether. John Cotton rakes
to
the synod of Cambridge.
Down
from my body my legs flow,
out from it arms wave, on it my head
shakes~
Now Mistress Hutchinson
rings
forth a call–
should she? many creep out at a broken wall–
affirming the Holy Ghost
dwells
in
one justified. Factioning passion blinds
25
all
to
all her good, all-can she
be
exiled?
Bitter sister, victim! I miss you.
-I
miss
you, Anne,
day or night weak as a child,
tender
&
empty, doomed, quick to no tryst.
-I hear you. Be kind, you who leaguer
my image in the mist.
-Be
kind you, to one unchained eager far
&
wild
26
and
if,
0 my love, my heart
is
breaking, please
neglect my cries and I will spare you. Deep
in
Time's grave, Love's, you lie still.
Lie
still.
-Now? That happy shape
my forehead had under my most long, rare,
ravendark, hidden, soft bodiless hair
you award me still.
You must not love me, .but I do not bid you cease.
