I am asking the difficult question. I need help.   I’m not asking from ill will. I have no desire to see you coping  Or not coping with unmanageable coils  Of a problem frivolously called up  I’ve read your books, had glimpses of a climate  That is rigorous, though not too hard  For the spirit. I may have grown  Since reading them; there is no scale To judge by, neither is the soul  Measurable. I know all the tropes Of religion, how God is not there  To go to; how time is wha

I dreamed that dead, and meditating, I lay upon a grave, or bed, (at least, some cold and close-built bower). In the cold heart, its...