A Flipping Vision
Some flipping visions leave behind,
Gripping influence on the mind,
They do refresh us more and more,
When are recalled to be flavoured,
From the heap of sunken memories.
I saw a damsel full in size and bulk,
With healthy sanguine vigorous face,
As her blood would trickle out soon,
She was built with all perfections,
Her features raised waves of pain,
Indelible, never to be erased again.
In the glassy house she moved around,
With modest lowering eyes to the ground,
She had no interest in the objects aside,
Seemed to be busy in domestic doings,
Her flexible black dressed shining hair,
Flowed down upon her shoulders,
Her gait and each gesture did bear,
Signs of serene air and celestial piety.
I standing out of the transparent walls,
Looked across with a sense of meekness,
Feeling myself too meager to be attended,
Left the place with loathsome sullen heart.