All poetry is difficult to read - The sense of it anyhow.
That great brow And the spirit-small hand propping it.
Aspire, break bounds. Endeavor to be good, and better still, best.
Man partly is and wholly hopes to be.
How very hard it is to be a Christian!
I give the fight up: let there be an end, a privacy, an obscure nook for me. I want to be forgotten even by God.