Eternity’s poisoned draps can never file,
And muckle roots thicken, deef to bobbies’ feet.
A mony-brainchin’ candelabra fills
The lift and’s lowin’ wi’ the stars;
The Octopus Creation is is wallopin’
In coontless faddoms o’ a nameless sea.
I am the candelabra, and burn
My endless candles to an Unkent God.
I am the mind and meanin’ o’ the octopus
That thraws its empty airms through a’ th’ Inane.