The spirit killeth, but the letter giveth life.
The week is dealt out like a
That children pick up card by card.
One keeps getting the same hand.
One keeps getting the same card.
But twice a day — except on Saturday —The wheel stops, there is a crack in Time:
With a hiss of soles, a rattle of tin,
My own gray Daemon pauses on the stair,
My own bald Fortune lifts me by the hair.
Woe's me! woe's me!
In Folly's
Still laughs the postcard,
Hope:
Your uncle in
Has died and you are Pope,
For many a soul has entertainedA Mailman unawares —And as you cry,
Impossible,
A step is on the stairs.
One keeps getting the same
Delayed, marked "Payment Due,"The bill that one has
Delayed, marked "Payment Due" —Twice a day, in rotting mailbox,
The white grubs are new:
And Faith, once more, is
Faithfully, but
Writes hopefully about a
Asylum — but Hope is as good as new.
Woe's me! woe's me!
In Folly's
Still laughs the postcard,
Hope:
Your uncle in
Has died and you are Pope,
For many a soul has entertainedA mailman unawares —And as you cry,
Impossible,
A step is on the stairs.
