That after Horror – that ‘twas us –
That passed the mouldering Pier –
Just as the Granite crumb let go –
Our Savior, by a Hair –

A second more, had dropped too deep
For Fisherman to plumb –
The very profile of the Thought
Puts Recollection numb –

The possibility – to pass
Without a moment’s Bell –
Into Conjecture’s presence
Is like a Face of Steel –
That suddenly looks into our’s
With a metallic grin –
The Cordiality of Death –
Who drills his Welcome in -