Straight strength pitched into the surliness of the ditch,
A soul you have—strength has always delicate secret reasons.
Your soul is a dull question.
I do not care for your strength, but for your stiff smile at Time—
A smile which men call rust.

Straight strength pitched into the surliness of the ditch:
A soul you have—strength has always delicate, secret reasons.
Your soul is a dull question.
I do not care for your soul, but your stiff smile at Time:
A smile which men call rust.