EMILY MONDAY

This was a Poet — It is That [which] distills amazing sense

From ordinary Meanings —
And [also distills an] Attar so immense from the familiar species
That perished by the Door —

We wonder [if] it was not Ourselves
[that] Arrested it — before —
[ie. Good poetry seems to remind us, not inform us]

Of Pictures, the Discloser —
The Poet — it is He —
Entitles Us — by Contrast —
To ceaseless Poverty —

Of portion — so unconscious —
The Robbing — could not harm —
Himself — to Him — a Fortune —
Exterior — to Time —

Just fabulous.