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13

Can the mole takeA census of the stars?Our firmament will neverGive him headache.

The man who nuzzlesIn a woman's lapBurrows toward a nightToo deep for puzzles:

While he, whose prayerHolds up the starry systemIn a God's train, sees nothingDifficult there.

So I, perhaps,Am neither mole nor mantis;I see the constellations,But by their gaps.

 

14

In heaven, I suppose, lie down togetherAgonised Pilate and the boa-constrictorThat swallows anything: but we must seizeOne horn or the other of our antitheses.