47
Sacred
&
unutterable Mind
flashing thorough the universe one thought,
I do wait without peace.
In the .article of death I budge.
Eat my sore breath, Black Angel. Let me die.
Body a-drain, when will you be dry
and countenance my speed
to Heaven's springs? lest stricter writhings have me declined.
48
'What are those pictures in the air at night,
Mother?' Mercy did
ask.
Space charged with faces
day
&
night! I place
a goatskin's fetor, and sweat: fold me
in savoury arms. Something is shaking, wrong.
He smells the musket and lifts it. It is long.
It points at my heart.
Missed he must have. In the gross storm of sunlight
49
I sniff a fire burning without outlet,
consuming acrid its own smoke. It's me.
Ruined laughter sounds
outside. Ah but I waken, free.
And so I am about .again. I hagged
a fury at the short maid, whom tongues tagged,
and I am sorry. Once
less
I was anxious when more passioned to upset
50
the
mansion
&
the garden
&
the beauty of God.
Insectile unreflective busyness
blunts
&
does amend.
Hangnails, piles, fibs, life's also.
But we .are that from which draws back a thumb.
The seasons stream and, somehow, I am become
an old woman. It's so:
I look. I bear to look. Strokes once more his rod.
501
