The Overtakelessness of Those
Who have accomplished Death –
Majestic is to me beyond
The majesties of Earth –
The Soul her “Not at Home”
Inscribes upon the Flesh –
And takes a fine aerial gait
Beyond the Writ of Touch.

Tie the strings to my life, my Lord,   Then I am ready to go! Just a look at the horses –   Rapid! That will do! Put me in on the firmest side,   So I shall never fall; For we must ride to the Judgment,   And it’s partly down hill.

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