 | Imaginary Sonnets |  |
81
II.
Each day the doubt that nestles in my soul
Now takes a firmer hold. What if this lone
And horror-haunted ocean-circled stone
Were, with myself, the universe—the whole?
Now takes a firmer hold. What if this lone
And horror-haunted ocean-circled stone
Were, with myself, the universe—the whole?
What if the world, its cities, and man's shoal
Were but my own vain dream, and every one
Of what I deem my memories of years gone
A picture which my fevered nights unroll?
Were but my own vain dream, and every one
Of what I deem my memories of years gone
A picture which my fevered nights unroll?
The weight of all these burning stars o'erhead,
All staring down upon one single man,
Will squeeze out reason, if it hath not fled
All staring down upon one single man,
Will squeeze out reason, if it hath not fled
Already; and, as only doomed minds can,
I watch the words, which, lest my tongue grow dead,
I utter to this sea, unsailed and wan.
I watch the words, which, lest my tongue grow dead,
I utter to this sea, unsailed and wan.
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