poetry

when
i have fears that i may cease to be

before my pen has gleaned my teeming
brain before

high piled books in character

hold like rich garners the full
ripened grain

when i behold upon the night's starred
face

huge cloudy symbols of a high romance

and think that i may never live

to trace their shadows with the magic

hand of chance

and when i feel fair creature of an

hour that i shall never look upon thee
more

never have relish in the fairy power

of unreflecting love

then on the shore of the wide world i

stand alone

and think to love

and fame to nothingness to think

you