-Age Visits That's Mule Made-
Neither by my wish or in the awful ignorance
Nor to see directly your death myself
Remaining late hails of daggers
For even now mine is in seeing your danger
Before it's stretched out the lengths of Caesar's
Will I marry the world you've entranced
Though you and I are our delicate friends
Feeling by a weedy river, and to dither
Out among the cattails wandering as far
As buoyant pitching poles allow their colored beads
They are to me a far greater expanse
Passed you from your gone goose heaven
You imagined in the days of angels
Making your name the great erased;
And I think I might have enjoined that far
At least as far as brown feather bobs
From shook shoot if I were with you
Allowed intolerable freedoms
Unlike the earth whose liberties split
The earth in tightening debt of seasons
The way one makes the spirit elegant
Halts belief in a stream arresting the way bends do
Or their pebbles sit dark along slithered bends
Each despite the other and none removed
The dependence of world on man hanging over
Him, that world which has each time hung
Him that world not ignorant of its things
Being towards enjoining a world and none
And when you old serpent will have ridden
Affirming your lonely lioness public cries
An angel run down, run down from cities
Laying hold and bound you, skilled god of legions
I sit around your strong river's edges every piece
Of me where one beam begins and others cease
Where an incline becomes a sharpest part's ledge
And novel equations in me are hidden
To know the whole world, and to say that knowledge
Is one try and remains specially aiming to know
But to be, that swung globe about its eyes
To be, balled wildernesses of eyes
To be this brandishing cosmos of down cigars
Is another precipitous thing entirely.
So it seems I beg to be sent the broad flat land long
As it is wide and stupid, and cruel to us
The keel without gliding perfect elementals
The same keel simply less miraculous
To evade not one part from the precipice
But the world is slavery, it made it
The way one makes forgetful a spirit
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