It might be lonelier
   Without the Loneliness —
 I'm so accustomed to my Fate —
   Perhaps the Other — Peace —

Would interrupt the Dark —
   And crowd the little Room —
 Too scant — by Cubits — to contain
   The Sacrament — of Him —

I am not used to Hope —
   It might intrude upon —
 Its sweet parade — blaspheme the place —
   Ordained to Suffering —

It might be easier
   To fail — with Land in Sight —
 Than gain — My Blue Peninsula —
   To perish — of Delight —