The sun - as common - went abroad - The flowers - accustomed - blew, As if no soul - that solstice passed - Which maketh all things - new -
The time was scarce profaned - by speech - The falling of a word Was needless - as at Sacrament - The _Wardrobe_ - of our Lord!
Each was to each - the sealed church - Permitted to commune - _this_ time - Lest we too awkward show At Supper of "the Lamb."
The hours slid fast - as hours will - Clutched tight - by greedy hands - So - faces on two Decks look back - Bound to _opposing_ lands.
And so, when all the time had leaked, Without external sound, Each bound the other's Crucifix - We gave no other bond -
Sufficient troth - that we shall _rise_, Deposed - at length the Grave - To that new marriage - _Justified_ - through Calvaries - of Love!
From the handwriting, it is not always clear which are dashes, which are commas and which are periods, nor it is entirely clear which initial letters are capitalized.
However, this transcription may be compared with the edited version in the main text to get a flavor of the changes made in these early editions.
This is my letter to the world, That never wrote to me, -- The simple news that Nature told, With tender majesty.
Her message is committed To hands I cannot see; For love of her, sweet countrymen, Judge tenderly of me!
[Published in "A Masque of Poets" at the request of "H.H.," the author's fellow-townswoman and friend.]
Success is counted sweetest By those who ne'er succeed. To comprehend a nectar Requires sorest need.
Not one of all the purple host Who took the flag to-day Can tell the definition, So clear, of victory,
As he, defeated, dying, On whose forbidden ear The distant strains of triumph Break, agonized and clear!
Our share of night to bear, Our share of morning, Our blank in bliss to fill, Our blank in scorning.
Here a star, and there a star, Some lose their way. Here a mist, and there a mist, Afterwards -- day!
Soul, wilt thou toss again? By just such a hazard Hundreds have lost, indeed, But tens have won an all.
Angels' breathless ballot Lingers to record thee; Imps in eager caucus Raffle for my soul.
'T is so much joy! 'T is so much joy! If I should fail, what poverty! And yet, as poor as I Have ventured all upon a throw; Have gained! Yes! Hesitated so This side the victory!