While I Lie Here

While I lie here under the tree,
Comes a strange insect and poises an instant at my cheek,
And lays his antennæ there upon my skin,
Then perceiving that I have nothing of nutriment for him,
He leaves me with a quiet indifference which, do all I can,
Crushes me more than the whole world's sarcasm,
And now he is gone to the Jamestown weed, there,
And is rioting in sweetness.