The distance would not haunt me so;
I had not hoped before.

But just to hear the grace depart
I never thought to see,
Afflicts me with a double loss;
'T is lost, and lost to me.




XXXII.

Portraits are to daily faces
As an evening west
To a fine, pedantic sunshine
In a satin vest.




XXXIII.

THE DUEL.

I took my power in my hand.
And went against the world;
'T was not so much as David had,
But I was twice as bold.