Moonmoth and grasshopper that flee our page 
And still wing on, untarnished of the name 
We pinion to your bodies to assuage 
Our envy of your freedom—we must maim 

Because we are usurpers, and chagrined— 
And take the wing and scar it in the hand. 
Names we have, even, to clap on the wind; 
But we must die, as you, to understand. 

I dreamed that all men dropped their names, and sang 
As only they can praise, who build their days 
With fin and hoof, with wing and sweetened fang 
Struck free and holy in one Name always.