O HOW my mind
Is gravell'd!
Not a thought
That I can find
But's ravel'd
All to nought.
Short ends of threads
And narrow shreds
Of lists,
Knot-snarl'd ruffs,
Loose broken tufts
Of twists,
Are my torn meditations' ragged clothing;
Which, wound and woven, shape a suit for nothing;
One while I think and then I am in pain
To think how to unthink that thought again.