I 

A shaded lamp and a waving blind, 
And the beat of a clock from a distant floor: 
On this scene enter--winged, horned, and spined - 
A longlegs, a moth, and a dumbledore; 
While 'mid my page there idly stands 
A sleepy fly, that rubs its hands . . . 

II 

Thus meet we five, in this still place, 
At this point of time, at this point in space. 
- My guests parade my new-penned ink, 
Or bang at the lamp-glass, whirl, and sink. 
"God's humblest, they!" I muse. Yet why? 
They know Earth-secrets that know not I.