Not, I'll Not, Carrion Comfort, Despair, Not Feast On Thee; Not Untwist - Slack They May Be - These Last Strands Of Man In Me 'R, Most Weary, Cry I Can No More. I Can; Can Something, Hope, Wish Day Come, Not Choose Not To Be. But Ah, But O Thou Terrible, Why Wouldst Thou Rude On Me Thy Wring-World Right Foot Rock? Lay A Lionlimb Against Me? Scan With Darksome Devouring Eyes My Bruis'D Bones? And Fan, O In Turns Of Tempest, Me Heaped There; Me Frantic To Avoid Thee And Flee? Why? That My Chaff Might Fly; My Grain Lie, Sheer And Clear. Nay In All That Toil, That Coil, Since (Seems) I Kissed The Rod, Hand Rather, My Heart Lo! Lapped Strength, Stole Joy, Would Laugh, Ch'Er. Cheer Whom Though? The Hero Whose Heaven-Handling Flung Me, F'Ot Tr'D Me? Or Me That Fought Him? O Which One? Is It Each One? That Night, That Year Of Now Done Darkness I Wretch Lay Wrestling With (My God!) My God.