LIFE
XLI
THE soul unto itselfIs an imperial friend,—Or the most agonizing spyAn enemy could send.
Secure against its own,No treason it can fear;Itself its sovereign, of itselfThe soul should stand in awe.
XLII
SURGEONS must be very carefulWhen they take the knife!Underneath their fine incisionsStirs the culprit,—Life!
XLIII
I LIKE to see it lap the miles,And lick the valleys up,And stop to feed itself at tanks;And then, prodigious, step
Around a pile of mountains,And, supercilious, peerIn shanties by the sides of roads;And then a quarry pare
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