286 That after Horror—that `twas us— That passed the mouldering Pier— Just as the Granite Crumb let go— Our Savior, by a Hair— A second more, had dropped too deep For Fisherman to plumb— The very profile of the Thought Puts Recollection numb— The possibility—to pass Without a Moment`s Bell— Into Conjecture`s presence— Is like a Face of Steel— That suddenly looks into ours With a metallic grin— The Cordiality of Death— Who drills his Welcome in—SourceThe script ran 0.001 seconds.
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