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The two plantations Greatgrandmother brought

My bearded General, back in a world would burn,

I thresh excited as I see return

Odd in this symbol you me last night taught . .

Your Two-fields rapt into the family ought

To save us: sensitivity, elegant, fern-

subtle, knit upon vigour enough to turn

A nation’s strong decline. I grind my thought

A bit more, and I bare the quick of the have

And have not, half have, less than half, O this

Fantasy of your gates ajar, gates barred.

Poaching and rack-rent do you hope will save

True to ourselves us, darling? owners, Lise!—

Heiress whose lovely holdings lie

       too forkt for truth; called also Kierkegaard.