Carrion Comfort

Not, I'll not, carrion comfort, Despair, not feast on thee;     Not untwist - slack they may be - these last strands of man     In me r, most weary, cry I can no more. I can;     Can something, hope, wish day come, not choose not to be.     But ah, but O thou terrible, why wouldst thou rude on me     Thy wring-world right foot rock? lay a lionlimb against me? scan     With darksome devouring eyes my bruisd bones? and fan,     O in turns of tempest, me heaped there; me frantic to avoid thee and flee?     Why? That my chaff might fly; my grain lie, sheer and clear.     Nay in all that toil, that coil, since (seems) I kissed the rod,     Hand rather, my heart lo! lapped strength, stole joy, would laugh, cher.     Cheer whom though? the hero whose heaven-handling flung me, fot trd     Me? or me that fought him? O which one? is it each one? That night, that year     Of now done darkness I wretch lay wrestling with (my God!) my God.