lead of those who do not believe in men.
Visor’d
A mask, a perpetual natural disguiser of herself, Concealing her face, concealing her form, Changes and transformations every hour, every moment, Falling upon her even when she sleeps.
Thought
Of justice—as if Justice could be anything but the same ample law, expounded by natural judges and saviors, As if it might be this thing or that thing, according to decisions.
Gliding O’er All
Gliding o’er all, through all, Through Nature, Time, and Space, As a ship on the waters advancing, The voyage of the soul—not life alone, Death, many deaths I’ll sing.
Hast Never Come to Thee an Hour
Hast never come to thee an hour, A sudden gleam divine, precipitating, bursting all these bubbles, fashions, wealth? These eager business aims—books, politics, art, amours, To utter nothingness?
Thought
Of Equality—as if it harm’d me, giving others the same chances and rights as myself—as if it were not indispensable to my own rights that others possess the same.