Parading

But the year had lost its meaning,

Till rising and gliding out, I wander’d off by myself,

But no one could say what the nightmare meant,

That world we want is Us; united, already moving

Where black is the color, where none is the number

And those who expected lightning and thunder

The great thing

but I guess she felt as I: that the weakness was not Government

Surge after surge of potent strength

this was the principal