The Tortoise in Eternity

Within my house of patterned hornI sleep in such a bedAs men may keep before they're bornAnd after they are dead.Sticks and stones may break their bones,And words may make them bleed;There is not one of them who ownsAn 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 birthPulse mother−o'−pearl to black;I bear the rainbow bubble EarthSquare on my scornful back.