LIFE
XI
MUCH madness is divinest senseTo a discerning eye;Much sense the starkest madness.’T is the majorityIn this, as all, prevails.Assent, and you are sane;Demur,—you ’re straightway dangerous,And handled with a chain.
XII
I ASKED no other thing,No other was denied.I offered Being for it;The mighty merchant smiled.
Brazil? He twirled a button,Without a glance my way:“But, madam, is there nothing elseThat we can show to-day?”
XIII
THE soul selects her own society,Then shuts the door;On her divine majorityObtrude no more.
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