Page:The town down the river; a book of poems.djvu/47

 To make me understand?— Laurel from every land, Laurel, but not the world?

Fury, or perjured Fate, or whatsoever, Tell me the bloodshot word that is your name And I will pledge remembrance of the same That shall be crossed out never; Whereby posterity May know, being told, that you have come to me, You and your tongueless train without a sound, With covetous hands and eyes and laurel all around, Foreshowing your endeavor To mirror me the demon of my days, To make me doubt him, loathe him, face to face. Bowed with unwilling glory from the quest That was ordained and manifest,