The Heptalogia
The sea draws it, sand sucks it—he's wise, my crab!

From the napkin out jumps his one talent—good steward,

Just judge! So a man shirks the smile or the stab,

And sets his sail duly to leeward!

[Pg 383]

XIV

Trust me? Hardly! I bid you not lean (remark)

On my spirit, your spirit—my flesh, your flesh—

Hold my hand, and tread safe through the horrible dark—

Quench my soul as with sprinklings of snow, then refresh

With some blast of new bellows the spark!

XV

By no means! This were easy (men tell me) to say—

"Give her all, throw your chance up, fall back on her heart!"

(Say my friends) "she must change! after night follows day—"

No such fool! I am safe set in hell, for my part—

So let heaven do the worst now he may!

XVI

What they bid me? Well, this, nothing more—"Tell her this—

'You are mine, I yours, though the whole world fail—


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