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I tie my Hat – I crease my Shawl –
Life’s little duties do – precisely –
As the very least
Were infinite – to me –
I put new Blossoms in the Glass –
And throw the old – away –
I push a petal from my gown
That anchored there – I weigh
The time ’twill be till six o’clock
I have so much to do –
And yet – Existence – some way back –
Stopped – struck – my tickling – through –
We cannot put Ourself away
As a completed Man
Or Woman – When the Errand’s done
We came to Flesh – upon –
There may be – Miles on Miles of Nought –
Of Action – sicker far –
To simulate – is stinging work –
To cover what we are
From Science-and from Surgery –
Too Telescopic Eyes
To bear on us unshaded –
For their – sake – not for Ours –
‘Twould start them –
We – could tremble –
But since we got a Bomb –
And held it in our Bosom –
Nay – Hold it – it is calm –
Therefore – we do life’s labor –
Though life’s Reward – be done –
With scrupulous exactness –
To hold our Senses – on –
