Only
Shiloh's seed shall not be sewn
In the garden of the womb
By a salty dropsy sipping,
No Redeemer shall be born
In the belly of a lamb
Dumbly and divinely leaping
Over the godbearing green.
From the meadow where lambs frolic
Rises every blade the Lamb,
From the heavens falls a dove
Now is sun and summer phallic,
Promise is its fiery limb,
And a baby god its thief,
Thieving bone and flesh's tunic
Through the flood gates of the sky
Grains of seeds shall be dropped loose,
Manna for the hungry globe,
Quickening for the land and sea.
Settling in a Virginia sluice,
It shall hammer at the rib,
Wall of wood or side of hay.
