Of a self-tormented shore,
And I clasp within my coat
Little dwindled bits of votes—
How few! and how they slide
Through my fingers to the other side,
While I weep — while I weep!
O God! Can I not grasp
Them with a tighter clasp?
O God! Call down the pricks
That slashed and burned on January 6!
Is all that we see or seem
A horrid dream within a dream?