Of Consciousness, Her Awful Mate. The Soul

A Shady Friend For Torrid Days Is Easier To Find Than One Of Higher Temperature For Frigid Hour Of Mind.

I Cannot Help Esteem The 'bird Within The Hand' Superior To The One The 'bush' May Yield Me Or May Not Too Late To Choose Again

My Life Had Stood - A Loaded Gun - In Corners - Till A Day The Owner Passed - Identified - And Carried Me Away -

A Dominie In Gray-- Put Gently Up The Evening Bars-- And Led The Flock Away

Not 'revelation'-'tis That Waits/ But Our Unfurnished Eyes