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He parts Himself—like Leaves

He parts Himself—like Leaves—

And then—He closes up—

Then stands upon the Bonnet

Of Any Buttercup—

 

And then He runs against

And oversets a Rose—

And then does Nothing—

Then away upon a Jib—He goes—

 

And dangles like a Mote

Suspended in the Noon—

Uncertain—to return Below—

Or settle in the Moon—

 

What come of Him—at Night—

The privilege to say

Be limited by Ignorance—

What come of Him—That Day—

 

The Frost—possess the World—

In Cabinets—be shown—

A Sepulchre of quaintest Floss—

An Abbey—a Cocoon—

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Help to poetry community, we are extracting poems from books and a little support would be very good!

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