The poem
Muttered Henry:—Lord of matter, thus: upon some more unquiet spirit knock, my madnesses have cease. All the quarter astonishes a lonely out & back. They set their clocks by Henry House, the steadiest man on the block.
And Lucifer:—I smell you for my own, by smug.—What have I tossed you but the least (tho' hard); fit for your ears. Your servant, bored with horror, sat alone with busy teeth while his dislike increased unto himself, in tears.
And he:—O promising despair, in solitude— —End there. Your avenues are dying: leave me: I dove under the oaken arms of Brother Martin, St Simeon the Lesser Theologian, Bodhidharma, and Baal Shem Tov.