I See A Lily On Thy Brow,

I Compare Human Life To A Large Mansion Of Many Apartments, Two Of Which I Can Only Describe, The Doors Of The Rest Being As Yet Shut Upon Me.

Feeling Well That Breathed Words Would All Be Lost, Unheard, And Vain As Swords Against The Enchased Crocodile, Or Leaps Of Grasshoppers Against The Sun.

How Does The Poet Speak To Men With Power, But By Being Still More A Man Than They

Works Of Genius Are The First Things In The World.

That Queen Of Secrecy, The Violet.