When we stand on the tops of Things --
And like the Trees, look down --
The smoke all cleared away from it --
And Mirrors on the scene --
Just laying light -- no soul will wink
Except it have the flaw --
The Sound ones, like the Hills -- shall stand --
No Lighting, scares away --
The Perfect, nowhere be afraid --
They bear their dauntless Heads,
Where others, dare not go at Noon,
Protected by their deeds --
The Stars dare shine occasionally
Upon a spotted World --
And Suns, go surer, for their Proof,
As if an Axle, held --
