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EmiTalks2

@@ -1,13 +1,7 @@
 XXI.
 THE FIRST LESSON.
 Not in this world to see his face
 Sounds long, until I read the place
 Where this is said to be
@@ -16,8 +10,6 @@ Unopened, rare, upon the shelf,
 Clasped yet to him and me.
 And yet, my primer suits me so
 I would not choose a book to know
 Than that, be sweeter wise;
@@ -26,231 +18,165 @@ And leave me just my A B C,
 Himself could have the skies.
 XXII.
 The bustle in a house
 The morning after death
 Is solemnest of industries
 Enacted upon earth, --
 The sweeping up the heart,
 And putting love away
 We shall not want to use again
 Until eternity.
 XXIII.
 I reason, earth is short,
 And  anguish absolute,
 And many hurt;
 But what of that?
 I reason, we could die:
 The best vitality
 Cannot excel decay;
 But what of that?
 I reason that in heaven
 Somehow, it will be even,
 Some new equation given;
 But what of that?
 XXIV.
 Afraid?  Of whom am I afraid?
 Not death; for who is he?
 The porter of my father's lodge
 As much abasheth me.
 Of life? 'T were odd I fear a thing
 That comprehendeth me
 In one or more existences
 At Deity's decree.
 Of resurrection? Is the east
 Afraid to trust the morn
 With her fastidious forehead?
 As soon impeach my crown!
 XXV.
 DYING.
 The sun kept setting, setting still;
 No hue of afternoon
 Upon the village I perceived, --
 From house to house 't was noon.
 The dusk kept dropping, dropping still;
 No dew upon the grass,
 But only on my forehead stopped,
 And wandered in my face.
 My feet kept drowsing, drowsing still,
 My fingers were awake;
 Yet why so little sound myself
 Unto my seeming make?
 How well I knew the light before!
 I could not see it now.
 'T is dying, I am doing; but
 I'm not afraid to know.
 XXVI.
 Two swimmers wrestled on the spar
 Until the morning sun,
 When one  turned smiling to the land.
 O God, the other one!
 The stray ships passing spied a face
 Upon the waters borne,
 With eyes in death still begging raised,
 And hands beseeching thrown.
 XXVII.
 THE CHARIOT.
 Because I could not stop for Death,
 He kindly stopped for me;
 The carriage held but just ourselves
 And Immortality.
 We slowly drove, he knew no haste,
 And I had put away
 My labor, and my leisure too,
 For his civility.
 We passed the school where children played,
 Their lessons scarcely done;
 We passed the fields of gazing grain,
 We passed the setting sun.
 We paused before a house that seemed
 A  swelling of the ground;
 The roof was scarcely visible,
 The cornice but a mound.
 Since then 't is centuries; but each
 Feels shorter than the day
 I first surmised the horses' heads
 Were toward eternity.
 XXVIII.
 She went as quiet as the dew
 From a familiar flower.
 Not  like the dew did she return
 At the accustomed hour!
 She dropt as softly as a star
 From  out my summer's eve;
 Less skilful than Leverrier
 It's sorer to believe!
 XXIX.
 RESURGAM.
 At last to be identified!
 At last, the lamps upon thy side,
 The rest of life to see!
@@ -259,126 +185,90 @@ Past sunrise! Ah! what leagues there are
 Between our  feet and day!
 XXX.
 Except to heaven, she is nought;
 Except for angels, lone;
 Except to some wide-wandering bee,
 A flower superfluous blown;
 Except for winds, provincial;
  Except by butterflies,
 Unnoticed as a single dew
 That on the acre lies.
 The smallest housewife in the grass,
 Yet take her from the lawn,
 And somebody has lost the face
 That made  existence home!
 XXXI.
 Death is a dialogue between
 The spirit and the dust.
 "Dissolve," says Death. The Spirit, "Sir,
 I have another trust."
 Death doubts it, argues from the ground.
 The Spirit turns away,
 Just laying off, for evidence,
 An overcoat of clay.
 XXXII.
 It was too late for man,
 But early yet for God;
 Creation impotent to help,
 But prayer remained our side.
 How excellent the heaven,
 When earth cannot be had;
 How hospitable, then, the face
 Of our old neighbor, God!
 XXXIII.
 ALONG THE POTOMAC.
 When I was small, a woman died.
 To-day her  only boy
 Went up from the Potomac,
 His  face all victory,
 To look at her; how slowly
  The seasons must have turned
 Till  bullets clipt an angle,
 And he passed quickly round!
 If pride shall be in Paradise
 I  never can decide;
 Of their  imperial conduct,
 No person testified.
 But  proud in apparition,
 That woman and her boy
  Pass back and forth before my brain,
 As ever in the sky.
 XXXIV.
 The daisy  follows soft the sun,
 And when his golden walk is done,
    Sits  shyly at his feet.
@@ -387,8 +277,6 @@ He, waking, finds the flower near.
    "Because, sir, love is sweet!"
 We are  the flower, Thou the sun!
 Forgive us, if as days decline,
    We  nearer steal to Thee, --
@@ -397,55 +285,39 @@ The  peace, the flight, the amethyst,
    Night's possibility!
 XXXV.
 EMANCIPATION.
 No rack  can torture me,
 My soul's at liberty
  Behind this mortal bone
 There knits a bolder one
 You cannot prick with saw,
 Nor  rend with scymitar.
 Two bodies therefore be;
 Bind  one, and one will flee.
 The eagle of his nest
 No  easier divest
 And gain  the sky,
 Than mayest thou,
 Except thyself  may be
 Thine  enemy;
 Captivity is consciousness,
 So's liberty.
 XXXVI.
  LOST.
@@ -455,68 +327,49 @@ You'll know it by the row of stars
 Around its forehead bound.
  A rich man might not notice it;
 Yet to my frugal eye
  Of more esteem than ducats.
 Oh,  find it, sir, for me!
 XXXVII.
 If I shouldn't be alive
 When  the robins come,
 Give the one in red cravat
 A  memorial crumb.
 If I couldn't thank you,
 Being  just asleep,
 You  will know I'm trying
 With my  granite lip!
 XXXVIII.
 Sleep is supposed to be,
 By souls of sanity,
 The shutting of the  eye.
 Sleep is the station grand
 Down which on either hand
 The hosts o f witness stand!
 Morn is supposed to be,
 By people of degree,
 The  breaking of the day.
 Morning has not occurred!
 That  shall aurora be
 East of eternity;
 One wit h the banner gay,
 One in the red array, --
 That is  the break of day.
@@ -525,16 +378,12 @@ That is  the break of day.
 XXXIX.
 I shall know why, when time is over,
  And I have ceased to wonder why;
  Christ will explain each separate anguish
 In the fair schoolroom of the sky.
 He will tell me what Peter promised,
  And I, for wonder at his woe,
 I shall forget the drop of anguish
@@ -543,25 +392,18 @@ I shall forget the drop of anguish
 XL.
 I never lost as much but twice,
  And that was in the sod;
 Twice have I stood a beggar
  Before the door of God!
 Angels, twice descending,
  Reimbursed my store.
 Burglar, banker, father,
  I am poor once more!
 I.
@@ -571,8 +413,6 @@ Are you nobody, too?
 They 'd banish us, you know.
 How dreary to be somebody!
 How public, like a frog
  To tell your name the livelong day
@@ -582,62 +422,44 @@ To an admiring bog!
 II.
 I bring an unaccustomed wine
 To lips long parching, next to mine,
 And summon them to drink.
 Crackling with fever, they essay;
 I turn my brimming eyes away,
 And come next hour to look.
 The hands still hug the tardy glass;
 The lips I would have cooled, alas!
 Are so superfluous cold,
 I would as soon attempt to warm
 The bosoms where the frost has lain
 Ages beneath the mould.
 Some other thirsty there may be
 To whom this would have pointed me
 Had it remained to speak.
 And so I always bear the cup
 If, haply, mine may be the drop
 Some pilgrim thirst to slake, --
 If, haply, any say to me,
 "Unto the little, unto me,"
 When I at last awake.
 III.
 The nearest dream recedes, unrealized.
       The heaven we chase
       Like the June bee
@@ -651,20 +473,13 @@ Dips -- evades -- teases -- deploys;
 Staring, bewildered, at the mocking sky.
       Homesick for steadfast honey,
       Ah! the bee flies not
 That brews that rare variety.
 IV.
 We play at paste,
 Till qualified for pearl,
 Then drop the paste,
@@ -675,55 +490,38 @@ Learned gem-tactics
 Practising sands.
 V.
 I found the phrase to every thought
 I ever had, but one;
 And that defies me, -- as a hand
 Did try to chalk the sun
 To races nurtured in the dark; --
 How would your own begin?
 Can blaze be done in cochineal,
 Or noon in mazarin?
 VI.
 HOPE.
 Hope is the thing with feathers
 That perches in the soul,
 And sings the tune without the words,
 And never stops at all,
 And sweetest in the gale is heard;
 And sore must be the storm
 That could abash the little bird
 That kept so many warm.
 I 've heard it in the chillest land,
 And on the strangest sea;
 Yet, never, in extremity,
@@ -807,6 +605,7 @@ Let no pebble smile,
 That was all!
 Power is only pain,
 Stranded, through discipline,
 Till weights will hang.

 XXI.
 THE FIRST LESSON.
 Not in this world to see his face
 Sounds long, until I read the place
 Where this is said to be
 Clasped yet to him and me.
 And yet, my primer suits me so
 I would not choose a book to know
 Than that, be sweeter wise;
 Himself could have the skies.
 XXII.
 The bustle in a house
 The morning after death
 Is solemnest of industries
 Enacted upon earth, --
 The sweeping up the heart,
 And putting love away
 We shall not want to use again
 Until eternity.
 XXIII.
 I reason, earth is short,
 And  anguish absolute,
 And many hurt;
 But what of that?
 I reason, we could die:
 The best vitality
 Cannot excel decay;
 But what of that?
 I reason that in heaven
 Somehow, it will be even,
 Some new equation given;
 But what of that?
 XXIV.
 Afraid?  Of whom am I afraid?
 Not death; for who is he?
 The porter of my father's lodge
 As much abasheth me.
 Of life? 'T were odd I fear a thing
 That comprehendeth me
 In one or more existences
 At Deity's decree.
 Of resurrection? Is the east
 Afraid to trust the morn
 With her fastidious forehead?
 As soon impeach my crown!
 XXV.
 DYING.
 The sun kept setting, setting still;
 No hue of afternoon
 Upon the village I perceived, --
 From house to house 't was noon.
 The dusk kept dropping, dropping still;
 No dew upon the grass,
 But only on my forehead stopped,
 And wandered in my face.
 My feet kept drowsing, drowsing still,
 My fingers were awake;
 Yet why so little sound myself
 Unto my seeming make?
 How well I knew the light before!
 I could not see it now.
 'T is dying, I am doing; but
 I'm not afraid to know.
 XXVI.
 Two swimmers wrestled on the spar
 Until the morning sun,
 When one  turned smiling to the land.
 O God, the other one!
 The stray ships passing spied a face
 Upon the waters borne,
 With eyes in death still begging raised,
 And hands beseeching thrown.
 XXVII.
 THE CHARIOT.
 Because I could not stop for Death,
 He kindly stopped for me;
 The carriage held but just ourselves
 And Immortality.
 We slowly drove, he knew no haste,
 And I had put away
 My labor, and my leisure too,
 For his civility.
 We passed the school where children played,
 Their lessons scarcely done;
 We passed the fields of gazing grain,
 We passed the setting sun.
 We paused before a house that seemed
 A  swelling of the ground;
 The roof was scarcely visible,
 The cornice but a mound.
 Since then 't is centuries; but each
 Feels shorter than the day
 I first surmised the horses' heads
 Were toward eternity.
 XXVIII.
 She went as quiet as the dew
 From a familiar flower.
 Not  like the dew did she return
 At the accustomed hour!
 She dropt as softly as a star
 From  out my summer's eve;
 Less skilful than Leverrier
 It's sorer to believe!
 XXIX.
 RESURGAM.
 At last to be identified!
 At last, the lamps upon thy side,
 The rest of life to see!
 Between our  feet and day!
 XXX.
 Except to heaven, she is nought;
 Except for angels, lone;
 Except to some wide-wandering bee,
 A flower superfluous blown;
 Except for winds, provincial;
  Except by butterflies,
 Unnoticed as a single dew
 That on the acre lies.
 The smallest housewife in the grass,
 Yet take her from the lawn,
 And somebody has lost the face
 That made  existence home!
 XXXI.
 Death is a dialogue between
 The spirit and the dust.
 "Dissolve," says Death. The Spirit, "Sir,
 I have another trust."
 Death doubts it, argues from the ground.
 The Spirit turns away,
 Just laying off, for evidence,
 An overcoat of clay.
 XXXII.
 It was too late for man,
 But early yet for God;
 Creation impotent to help,
 But prayer remained our side.
 How excellent the heaven,
 When earth cannot be had;
 How hospitable, then, the face
 Of our old neighbor, God!
 XXXIII.
 ALONG THE POTOMAC.
 When I was small, a woman died.
 To-day her  only boy
 Went up from the Potomac,
 His  face all victory,
 To look at her; how slowly
  The seasons must have turned
 Till  bullets clipt an angle,
 And he passed quickly round!
 If pride shall be in Paradise
 I  never can decide;
 Of their  imperial conduct,
 No person testified.
 But  proud in apparition,
 That woman and her boy
  Pass back and forth before my brain,
 As ever in the sky.
 XXXIV.
 The daisy  follows soft the sun,
 And when his golden walk is done,
    Sits  shyly at his feet.
    "Because, sir, love is sweet!"
 We are  the flower, Thou the sun!
 Forgive us, if as days decline,
    We  nearer steal to Thee, --
    Night's possibility!
 XXXV.
 EMANCIPATION.
 No rack  can torture me,
 My soul's at liberty
  Behind this mortal bone
 There knits a bolder one
 You cannot prick with saw,
 Nor  rend with scymitar.
 Two bodies therefore be;
 Bind  one, and one will flee.
 The eagle of his nest
 No  easier divest
 And gain  the sky,
 Than mayest thou,
 Except thyself  may be
 Thine  enemy;
 Captivity is consciousness,
 So's liberty.
 XXXVI.
  LOST.
 Around its forehead bound.
  A rich man might not notice it;
 Yet to my frugal eye
  Of more esteem than ducats.
 Oh,  find it, sir, for me!
 XXXVII.
 If I shouldn't be alive
 When  the robins come,
 Give the one in red cravat
 A  memorial crumb.
 If I couldn't thank you,
 Being  just asleep,
 You  will know I'm trying
 With my  granite lip!
 XXXVIII.
 Sleep is supposed to be,
 By souls of sanity,
 The shutting of the  eye.
 Sleep is the station grand
 Down which on either hand
 The hosts o f witness stand!
 Morn is supposed to be,
 By people of degree,
 The  breaking of the day.
 Morning has not occurred!
 That  shall aurora be
 East of eternity;
 One wit h the banner gay,
 One in the red array, --
 That is  the break of day.
 XXXIX.
 I shall know why, when time is over,
  And I have ceased to wonder why;
  Christ will explain each separate anguish
 In the fair schoolroom of the sky.
 He will tell me what Peter promised,
  And I, for wonder at his woe,
 I shall forget the drop of anguish
 XL.
 I never lost as much but twice,
  And that was in the sod;
 Twice have I stood a beggar
  Before the door of God!
 Angels, twice descending,
  Reimbursed my store.
 Burglar, banker, father,
  I am poor once more!
 I.
 They 'd banish us, you know.
 How dreary to be somebody!
 How public, like a frog
  To tell your name the livelong day
 II.
 I bring an unaccustomed wine
 To lips long parching, next to mine,
 And summon them to drink.
 Crackling with fever, they essay;
 I turn my brimming eyes away,
 And come next hour to look.
 The hands still hug the tardy glass;
 The lips I would have cooled, alas!
 Are so superfluous cold,
 I would as soon attempt to warm
 The bosoms where the frost has lain
 Ages beneath the mould.
 Some other thirsty there may be
 To whom this would have pointed me
 Had it remained to speak.
 And so I always bear the cup
 If, haply, mine may be the drop
 Some pilgrim thirst to slake, --
 If, haply, any say to me,
 "Unto the little, unto me,"
 When I at last awake.
 III.
 The nearest dream recedes, unrealized.
       The heaven we chase
       Like the June bee
 Staring, bewildered, at the mocking sky.
       Homesick for steadfast honey,
       Ah! the bee flies not
 That brews that rare variety.
 IV.
 We play at paste,
 Till qualified for pearl,
 Then drop the paste,
 Practising sands.
 V.
 I found the phrase to every thought
 I ever had, but one;
 And that defies me, -- as a hand
 Did try to chalk the sun
 To races nurtured in the dark; --
 How would your own begin?
 Can blaze be done in cochineal,
 Or noon in mazarin?
 VI.
 HOPE.
 Hope is the thing with feathers
 That perches in the soul,
 And sings the tune without the words,
 And never stops at all,
 And sweetest in the gale is heard;
 And sore must be the storm
 That could abash the little bird
 That kept so many warm.
 I 've heard it in the chillest land,
 And on the strangest sea;
 Yet, never, in extremity,
 That was all!
 Power is only pain,
 Stranded, through discipline,
 Till weights will hang.