The Soul has Bandaged moments --When too appalled to stir --She feels some ghastly Fright come upAnd stop to look at her --Salute her -- with long fingers --Caress her freezing hair --Sip, Goblin, from the very lipsThe Lover -- hovered -- o'er --Unworthy, that a thought so meanAccost a Theme -- so -- fair --The soul has moments of Escape --When bursting all the doors --She dances like a Bomb, abroad,And swings upon the Hours,As do the Bee -- delirious borne --Long Dungeoned from his Rose --Touch Liberty -- then know no more,But Noon, and ParadiseThe Soul's retaken moments --When, Felon led along,With irons --irons --shackles on the plumed feet,And rivets --rivets --staples, in the Song,The Horror welcomes her, again,These, are not brayed of Tongue --