The single hound : poems of a lifetime | ||
82
[LXXVI. Too cold is this]
Too cold is thisTo warm with sun,
Too stiff to bended be,
To joint this agate were a feat
Outstaring masonry.
How went the agile kernel out—
Contusion of the husk,
Nor rip, nor wrinkle indicate,—
But just an Asterisk.
The single hound : poems of a lifetime | ||