I tried to think a lonelier Thing
Than any I had seen —
Some Polar Expiation — An Omen in the Bone
Of Death’s tremendous nearness —
I probed Retrieverless things
My Duplicate — to borrow —
A Haggard Comfort springs
From the belief that Somewhere —
Within the Clutch of Thought —
There dwells one other Creature
Of Heavenly Love — forgot —
I plucked at our Partition
As One should pry the Walls —
Between Himself — and Horror’s Twin —
Within Opposing Cells —
I almost strove to clasp his Hand,
Such Luxury — it grew —
That as Myself — could pity Him —
Perhaps he — pitied me —