The Tortoise in Eternity

Within my house of patterned horn I sleep in such a bed As men may keep before they're born And after they are dead.

Sticks and stones may break their bones, And words may make them bleed; There is not one of them who owns An armor to his need.

Tougher than hide or lozenged bark, Snow-storm and thunder proof, And quick with sun, and thick with dark, Is this my darling roof.

Men's troubled dreams of death and birth Pulse mother-o'-pearl to black; I bear the rainbow bubble Earth Square on my scornful back.