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All life's for shrewd appraising. Fools and dreamers take a turn at telling values And philosophers have tried it. Some measure men by bed and book That all the world may see to look— The fools are these. And some will regulate the count By what they are themselves— These are dreamers. Household sticks aren't much to price a life That's furnished by secrets and long sittings; Nor much to make a living by perhaps you'll think, But that's the humor in the plan Though few will laugh to feel it. Grotesques— In low or high relief— We fill the earth's entablature With ashlar or with clay, And form its decoration. . . When I tiptoe through empty dwellings And see in dusty mirrors Doubts and potent failures That grimace in over-ponderous flesh I am too terrified to laugh. These the Great Appraiser will inspect When I have left my human house untenanted.