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The single hound : poems of a lifetime | ||
75
[LXX. In Winter, in my room]
In Winter, in my room,
I came upon a worm,
Pink, lank, and warm.
But as he was a worm
And worms presume,
Not quite with him at home—
Secured him by a string
To something neighboring,
And went along.
I came upon a worm,
Pink, lank, and warm.
But as he was a worm
And worms presume,
Not quite with him at home—
Secured him by a string
To something neighboring,
And went along.
A trifle afterward
A thing occurred,
I'd not believe it if I heard—
But state with creeping blood;
A snake, with mottles rare,
Surveyed my chamber floor,
In feature as the worm before,
But ringed with power.
The very string
With which I tied him, too,
When he was mean and new,
That string was there.
A thing occurred,
I'd not believe it if I heard—
But state with creeping blood;
A snake, with mottles rare,
Surveyed my chamber floor,
In feature as the worm before,
But ringed with power.
The very string
76
When he was mean and new,
That string was there.
I shrank—“How fair you are!”
Propitiation's claw—
“Afraid,” he hissed,
“Of me?”
“No cordiality?”
He fathomed me.
Propitiation's claw—
“Afraid,” he hissed,
“Of me?”
“No cordiality?”
He fathomed me.
Then, to a rhythm slim
Secreted in his form,
As patterns swim,
Projected him.
Secreted in his form,
As patterns swim,
Projected him.
That time I flew,
Both eyes his way,
Lest he pursue—
Nor ever ceased to run,
Till, in a distant town,
Towns on from mine—
I sat me down;
This was a dream.
Both eyes his way,
Lest he pursue—
Nor ever ceased to run,
Till, in a distant town,
Towns on from mine—
I sat me down;
This was a dream.
The single hound : poems of a lifetime | ||