You Eyes, you large and all-inquiring Eyes. 
That look so dubiously into me, 
And are not satisfied with what you see, 
Tell me the worst and let us have no lies: 
Tell me the meaning of your scrutinies. 
And of myself. Am I a Mystery? 
Am I a Boojum--or just Company? 
What do you say? What do you think, You Eyes?

You say not; but you think, without a doubt; 
And you have the whole world to think about, 
With very little time for little things. 
So let it be; and let it all be fair-- 
For you, and for the rest who cannot share 
Your gold of unrevealed awakenings.