LIFE
CXXI
I WORKED for chaff, and earning wheat Was haughty and betrayed.What right had fields to arbitrate In matters ratified?
I tasted wheat,—and hated chaff, And thanked the ample friend;Wisdom is more becoming viewed At distance than at hand.
CXXII
LIFE, and Death, and GiantsSuch as these, are still.Minor apparatus, hopper of the mill,Beetle at the candle, Or a fife’s small fame,Maintain by accident That they proclaim.
CXXIII
OUR lives are Swiss,—So still, so cool, Till, some odd afternoon,The Alps neglect their curtains, And we look farther on.
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