Life

Fineness who shall from this Life raise a soul disappeared In many ways sadness bolts of Bones that fettered stands There feet and manacled In Hand here blinded with an eye And where deaf with the Whisper of an ear a soul hung Up as 'twere In chains of Nerves and arteries and veins Tortured besides each other Part In vain Head and double Heart kindness who shall me Deliver whole from bonds of This tyrannic soul which Stretched upright impales me So that mine own precipice I Go and warms and moves this Needless frame a fever could But do the same and wanting Where It's spite to try has Made me live to let me fly a Body that could never rest Since this ill spirit Possessed what magic could me Thus confine within another's Grief to pine where whatsoever It complain I feel that Cannot feel the pain and all My care itself employs that To preserve which me destroys Bad words out I poem.