lace, microscopic, unborn, Like babes in wombs, latent, folded, compact, sleeping; Billions of billions, and trillions of trillions of them waiting, (On earth and in the sea—the universe—the stars there in the heavens,) Urging slowly, surely forward, forming endless, And waiting ever more, forever more behind.
Goodbye My Fancy!
Goodbye my Fancy! Farewell dear mate, dear love! I’m going away, I know not where, Or to what fortune, or whether I may ever see you again, So Goodbye my Fancy.
Now for my last—let me look back a moment; The slower fainter ticking of the clock is in me, Exit, nightfall, and soon the heart-thud stopping.
Long have we lived, joy’d, caress’d together; Delightful!—now separation—Goodbye my Fancy.
Yet let me not be too hasty, Long indeed have we lived, slept, filter’d, become really blended into one; Then if we die we die together, (yes, we’ll remain one,) If we go anywhere we’ll go together to meet what happens, May-be we’ll be better off and blither, and learn something, May-be it is yourself now really ushering me to the true songs, (who knows?) May-be it is you the mortal knob really undoing, turning—so now finally, Goodbye—and hail! my Fancy.