Nets to Catch the Wind/The Tortoise in Eternity

Within my house of patterned horn I sleep in such a bed As men may keep before they're born And after they are dead. Sticks and stones may break their bones, And words may make them bleed; There is not one of them who owns An armor to his need. Tougher than hide or lozenged bark, Snow−storm and thunder proof, And quick with sun, and thick with dark, Is this my darling roof. Men's troubled dreams of death and birth Pulse mother−o'−pearl to black; I bear the rainbow bubble Earth Square on my scornful back.