the Cambridge ladies who live in furnished souls 
are unbeautiful and have comfortable minds 
(also, with the church's protestant blessings 
daughters,unscented shapeless spirited) 
they believe in Christ and Longfellow, both dead, 
are invariably interested in so many things— 
at the present writing one still finds 
delighted fingers knitting for the is it Poles? 
perhaps. While permanent faces coyly bandy 
scandal of Mrs. N and Professor D 
.... the Cambridge ladies do not care,above 
Cambridge if sometimes in its box of 
sky lavender and cornerless,the 
moon rattles like a fragment of angry candy