Upload EmilyDickinsonCompleteWorks1.txt

EmilyDickinsonCompleteWorks1.txt

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+III. NATURE.
+
+
+I.
+
+
+New feet within my garden go,
+New fingers stir the sod;
+A troubadour upon the elm
+Betrays the solitude.
+
+
+New children play upon the green,
+New weary sleep below;
+And still the pensive spring returns,
+And still the punctual snow!
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+II.
+
+
+MAY-FLOWER.
+
+
+Pink, small, and punctual,
+Aromatic, low,
+Covert in April,
+Candid in May,
+
+
+Dear to the moss,
+Known by the knoll,
+Next to the robin
+In every human soul.
+
+
+Bold little beauty,
+Bedecked with thee,
+Nature forswears
+Antiquity.
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+III.
+
+
+WHY?
+
+
+The murmur of a bee
+A witchcraft yieldeth me.
+If any ask me why,
+'T were easier to die
+Than tell.
+
+
+The red upon the hill
+Taketh away my will;
+If anybody sneer,
+Take care, for God is here,
+That's all.
+
+
+The breaking of the day
+Addeth to my degree;
+If any ask me how,
+Artist, who drew me so,
+Must tell!
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+IV.
+
+
+Perhaps you'd like to buy a flower?
+But I could never sell.
+If you would like to borrow
+Until the daffodil
+
+
+Unties her yellow bonnet
+Beneath the village door,
+Until the bees, from clover rows
+Their hock and sherry draw,
+
+
+Why, I will lend until just then,
+But not an hour more!
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+V.
+
+
+The pedigree of honey
+Does not concern the bee;
+A clover, any time, to him
+Is aristocracy.
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+VI.
+
+
+A SERVICE OF SONG.
+
+
+Some keep the Sabbath going to church;
+I keep it staying at home,
+With a bobolink for a chorister,
+And an orchard for a dome.
+
+
+Some keep the Sabbath in surplice;
+I just wear my wings,
+And instead of tolling the bell for church,
+Our little sexton sings.
+
+
+God preaches, -- a noted clergyman, --
+And the sermon is never long;
+So instead of getting to heaven at last,
+I'm going all along!
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+VII.
+
+
+The bee is not afraid of me,
+I know the butterfly;
+The pretty people in the woods
+Receive me cordially.
+
+
+The brooks laugh louder when I come,
+The breezes madder play.
+Wherefore, mine eyes, thy silver mists?
+Wherefore, O summer's day?
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+VIII.
+
+
+SUMMER'S ARMIES.
+
+
+Some rainbow coming from the fair!
+Some vision of the world Cashmere
+I confidently see!
+Or else a peacock's purple train,
+Feather by feather, on the plain
+Fritters itself away!
+
+
+The dreamy butterflies bestir,
+Lethargic pools resume the whir
+Of last year's sundered tune.
+From some old fortress on the sun
+Baronial bees march, one by one,
+In murmuring platoon!
+
+
+The robins stand as thick to-day
+As flakes of snow stood yesterday,
+On fence and roof and twig.
+The orchis binds her feather on
+For her old lover, Don the Sun,
+Revisiting the bog!
+
+
+Without commander, countless, still,
+The regiment of wood and hill
+In bright detachment stand.
+Behold! Whose multitudes are these?
+The children of whose turbaned seas,
+Or what Circassian land?
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+IX.
+
+
+THE GRASS.
+
+
+The grass so little has to do, --
+A sphere of simple green,
+With only butterflies to brood,
+And bees to entertain,
+
+
+And stir all day to pretty tunes
+The breezes fetch along,
+And hold the sunshine in its lap
+And bow to everything;
+
+
+And thread the dews all night, like pearls,
+And make itself so fine, --
+A duchess were too common
+For such a noticing.
+
+
+And even when it dies, to pass
+In odors so divine,
+As lowly spices gone to sleep,
+Or amulets of pine.
+
+
+And then to dwell in sovereign barns,
+And dream the days away, --
+The grass so little has to do,
+I wish I were the hay!
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+X.
+
+
+A little road not made of man,
+Enabled of the eye,
+Accessible to thill of bee,
+Or cart of butterfly.
+
+
+If town it have, beyond itself,
+'T is that I cannot say;
+I only sigh, -- no vehicle
+Bears me along that way.
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+XI.
+
+
+SUMMER SHOWER.
+
+
+A drop fell on the apple tree,
+Another on the roof;
+A half a dozen kissed the eaves,
+And made the gables laugh.
+
+
+A few went out to help the brook,
+That went to help the sea.
+Myself conjectured, Were they pearls,
+What necklaces could be!
+
+
+The dust replaced in hoisted roads,
+The birds jocoser sung;
+The sunshine threw his hat away,
+The orchards spangles hung.
+
+
+The breezes brought dejected lutes,
+And bathed them in the glee;
+The East put out a single flag,
+And signed the fete away.
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+XII.
+
+
+PSALM OF THE DAY.
+
+
+A something in a summer's day,
+As slow her flambeaux burn away,
+Which solemnizes me.
+
+
+A something in a summer's noon, --
+An azure depth, a wordless tune,
+Transcending ecstasy.
+
+
+And still within a summer's night
+A something so transporting bright,
+I clap my hands to see;
+
+
+Then veil my too inspecting face,
+Lest such a subtle, shimmering grace
+Flutter too far for me.
+
+
+The wizard-fingers never rest,
+The purple brook within the breast
+Still chafes its narrow bed;
+
+
+Still rears the East her amber flag,
+Guides still the sun along the crag
+His caravan of red,
+
+
+Like flowers that heard the tale of dews,
+But never deemed the dripping prize
+Awaited their low brows;
+
+
+Or bees, that thought the summer's name
+Some rumor of delirium
+No summer could for them;
+
+
+Or Arctic creature, dimly stirred
+By tropic hint, -- some travelled bird
+Imported to the wood;
+
+
+Or wind's bright signal to the ear,
+Making that homely and severe,
+Contented, known, before
+
+
+The heaven unexpected came,
+To lives that thought their worshipping
+A too presumptuous psalm.
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+XIII.
+
+
+THE SEA OF SUNSET.
+
+
+This is the land the sunset washes,
+These are the banks of the Yellow Sea;
+Where it rose, or whither it rushes,
+These are the western mystery!
+
+
+Night after night her purple traffic
+Strews the landing with opal bales;
+Merchantmen poise upon horizons,
+Dip, and vanish with fairy sails.
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+XIV.
+
+
+PURPLE CLOVER.
+
+
+There is a flower that bees prefer,
+And butterflies desire;
+To gain the purple democrat
+The humming-birds aspire.
+
+
+And whatsoever insect pass,
+A honey bears away
+Proportioned to his several dearth
+And her capacity.
+
+
+Her face is rounder than the moon,
+And ruddier than the gown
+Of orchis in the pasture,
+Or rhododendron worn.
+
+
+She doth not wait for June;
+Before the world is green
+Her sturdy little countenance
+Against the wind is seen,
+
+
+Contending with the grass,
+Near kinsman to herself,
+For privilege of sod and sun,
+Sweet litigants for life.
+
+
+And when the hills are full,
+And newer fashions blow,
+Doth not retract a single spice
+For pang of jealousy.
+
+
+Her public is the noon,
+Her providence the sun,
+Her progress by the bee proclaimed
+In sovereign, swerveless tune.
+
+
+The bravest of the host,
+Surrendering the last,
+Nor even of defeat aware
+When cancelled by the frost.
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+XV.
+
+
+THE BEE.
+
+
+Like trains of cars on tracks of plush
+I hear the level bee:
+A jar across the flowers goes,
+Their velvet masonry
+
+
+Withstands until the sweet assault
+Their chivalry consumes,
+While he, victorious, tilts away
+To vanquish other blooms.
+
+
+His feet are shod with gauze,
+His helmet is of gold;
+His breast, a single onyx
+With chrysoprase, inlaid.
+
+
+His labor is a chant,
+His idleness a tune;
+Oh, for a bee's experience
+Of clovers and of noon!
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+XVI.
+
+
+Presentiment is that long shadow on the lawn
+Indicative that suns go down;
+The notice to the startled grass
+That darkness is about to pass.
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+XVII.
+
+
+As children bid the guest good-night,
+And then reluctant turn,
+My flowers raise their pretty lips,
+Then put their nightgowns on.
+
+
+As children caper when they wake,
+Merry that it is morn,
+My flowers from a hundred cribs
+Will peep, and prance again.
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+XVIII.
+
+
+Angels in the early morning
+May be seen the dews among,
+Stooping, plucking, smiling, flying:
+Do the buds to them belong?
+
+
+Angels when the sun is hottest
+May be seen the sands among,
+Stooping, plucking, sighing, flying;
+Parched the flowers they bear along.
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+XIX.
+
+
+So bashful when I spied her,
+So pretty, so ashamed!
+So hidden in her leaflets,
+Lest anybody find;
+
+
+So breathless till I passed her,
+So helpless when I turned
+And bore her, struggling, blushing,
+Her simple haunts beyond!
+
+
+For whom I robbed the dingle,
+For whom betrayed the dell,
+Many will doubtless ask me,
+But I shall never tell!
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+XX.
+
+
+TWO WORLDS.
+
+
+It makes no difference abroad,
+The seasons fit the same,
+The mornings blossom into noons,
+And split their pods of flame.
+
+
+Wild-flowers kindle in the woods,
+The brooks brag all the day;
+No blackbird bates his jargoning
+For passing Calvary.
+
+
+Auto-da-fe and judgment
+Are nothing to the bee;
+His separation from his rose
+To him seems misery.
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+XXI.
+
+
+THE MOUNTAIN.
+
+
+The mountain sat upon the plain
+In his eternal chair,
+His observation omnifold,
+His inquest everywhere.
+
+
+The seasons prayed around his knees,
+Like children round a sire:
+Grandfather of the days is he,
+Of dawn the ancestor.
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+XXII.
+
+
+A DAY.
+
+
+I'll tell you how the sun rose, --
+A ribbon at a time.
+The steeples swam in amethyst,
+The news like squirrels ran.
+
+
+The hills untied their bonnets,
+The bobolinks begun.
+Then I said softly to myself,
+"That must have been the sun!"
+
+
+        *  *  *
+
+
+But how he set, I know not.
+There seemed a purple stile
+Which little yellow boys and girls
+Were climbing all the while
+
+
+Till when they reached the other side,
+A dominie in gray
+Put gently up the evening bars,
+And led the flock away.
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+XXIII.
+
+
+The butterfly's assumption-gown,
+In chrysoprase apartments hung,
+  This afternoon put on.
+
+
+How condescending to descend,
+And be of buttercups the friend
+  In a New England town!
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+XXIV.
+
+
+THE WIND.
+
+
+Of all the sounds despatched abroad,
+There's not a charge to me
+Like that old measure in the boughs,
+That phraseless melody
+
+
+The wind does, working like a hand
+Whose fingers brush the sky,
+Then quiver down, with tufts of tune
+Permitted gods and me.
+
+
+When winds go round and round in bands,
+And thrum upon the door,
+And birds take places overhead,
+To bear them orchestra,
+
+
+I crave him grace, of summer boughs,
+If such an outcast be,
+He never heard that fleshless chant
+Rise solemn in the tree,
+
+
+As if some caravan of sound
+On deserts, in the sky,
+Had broken rank,
+Then knit, and passed
+In seamless company.
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+XXV.
+
+
+DEATH AND LIFE.
+
+
+Apparently with no surprise
+To any happy flower,
+The frost beheads it at its play
+In accidental power.
+The blond assassin passes on,
+The sun proceeds unmoved
+To measure off another day
+For an approving God.
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+XXVI.
+
+
+'T WAS later when the summer went
+Than when the cricket came,
+And yet we knew that gentle clock
+Meant nought but going home.
+
+
+'T was sooner when the cricket went
+Than when the winter came,
+Yet that pathetic pendulum
+Keeps esoteric time.
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+XXVII.
+
+
+INDIAN SUMMER.
+
+
+These are the days when birds come back,
+A very few, a bird or two,
+To take a backward look.
+
+
+These are the days when skies put on
+The old, old sophistries of June, --
+A blue and gold mistake.
+
+
+Oh, fraud that cannot cheat the bee,
+Almost thy plausibility
+Induces my belief,
+
+
+Till ranks of seeds their witness bear,
+And softly through the altered air
+Hurries a timid leaf!
+
+
+Oh, sacrament of summer days,
+Oh, last communion in the haze,
+Permit a child to join,
+
+
+Thy sacred emblems to partake,
+Thy consecrated bread to break,
+Taste thine immortal wine!
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+XXVIII.
+
+
+AUTUMN.
+
+
+The morns are meeker than they were,
+The nuts are getting brown;
+The berry's cheek is plumper,
+The rose is out of town.
+
+
+The maple wears a gayer scarf,
+The field a scarlet gown.
+Lest I should be old-fashioned,
+I'll put a trinket on.
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+XXIX.
+
+
+BECLOUDED.
+
+
+The sky is low, the clouds are mean,
+A travelling flake of snow
+Across a barn or through a rut
+Debates if it will go.
+
+
+A narrow wind complains all day
+How some one treated him;
+Nature, like us, is sometimes caught
+Without her diadem.
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+XXX.
+
+
+THE HEMLOCK.
+
+
+I think the hemlock likes to stand
+Upon a marge of snow;
+It suits his own austerity,
+And satisfies an awe
+
+
+That men must slake in wilderness,
+Or in the desert cloy, --
+An instinct for the hoar, the bald,
+Lapland's necessity.
+
+
+The hemlock's nature thrives on cold;
+The gnash of northern winds
+Is sweetest nutriment to him,
+His best Norwegian wines.
+
+
+To satin races he is nought;
+But children on the Don
+Beneath his tabernacles play,
+And Dnieper wrestlers run.
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+XXXI.
+
+
+There's a certain slant of light,
+On winter afternoons,
+That oppresses, like the weight
+Of cathedral tunes.
+
+
+Heavenly hurt it gives us;
+We can find no scar,
+But internal difference
+Where the meanings are.
+
+
+None may teach it anything,
+'T is the seal, despair, --
+An imperial affliction
+Sent us of the air.
+
+
+When it comes, the landscape listens,
+Shadows hold their breath;
+When it goes, 't is like the distance
+On the look of death.
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+IV. TIME AND ETERNITY.
+
+
+I.
+
+
+One dignity delays for all,
+One mitred afternoon.
+None can avoid this purple,
+None evade this crown.
+
+
+Coach it insures, and footmen,
+Chamber and state and throng;
+Bells, also, in the village,
+As we ride grand along.
+
+
+What dignified attendants,
+What service when we pause!
+How loyally at parting
+Their hundred hats they raise!
+
+
+How pomp surpassing ermine,
+When simple you and I
+Present our meek escutcheon,
+And claim the rank to die!
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+II.
+
+
+TOO LATE.
+
+
+Delayed till she had ceased to know,
+Delayed till in its vest of snow
+   Her loving bosom lay.
+An hour behind the fleeting breath,
+Later by just an hour than death, --
+   Oh, lagging yesterday!
+
+
+Could she have guessed that it would be;
+Could but a crier of the glee
+   Have climbed the distant hill;
+Had not the bliss so slow a pace, --
+Who knows but this surrendered face
+   Were undefeated still?
+
+
+Oh, if there may departing be
+Any forgot by victory
+   In her imperial round,
+Show them this meek apparelled thing,
+That could not stop to be a king,
+   Doubtful if it be crowned!
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+III.
+
+
+ASTRA CASTRA.
+
+
+Departed to the judgment,
+A mighty afternoon;
+Great clouds like ushers leaning,
+Creation looking on.
+
+
+The flesh surrendered, cancelled,
+The bodiless begun;
+Two worlds, like audiences, disperse
+And leave the soul alone.
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+IV.
+
+
+Safe in their alabaster chambers,
+Untouched by morning and untouched by noon,
+Sleep the meek members of the resurrection,
+Rafter of satin, and roof of stone.
+
+
+Light laughs the breeze in her castle of sunshine;
+Babbles the bee in a stolid ear;
+Pipe the sweet birds in ignorant cadence, --
+Ah, what sagacity perished here!
+
+
+Grand go the years in the crescent above them;
+Worlds scoop their arcs, and firmaments row,
+Diadems drop and Doges surrender,
+Soundless as dots on a disk of snow.
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+V.
+
+
+On this long storm the rainbow rose,
+On this late morn the sun;
+The clouds, like listless elephants,
+Horizons straggled down.
+
+
+The birds rose smiling in their nests,
+The gales indeed were done;
+Alas! how heedless were the eyes
+On whom the summer shone!
+
+
+The quiet nonchalance of death
+No daybreak can bestir;
+The slow archangel's syllables
+Must awaken her.
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+VI.
+
+
+FROM THE CHRYSALIS.
+
+
+My cocoon tightens, colors tease,
+I'm feeling for the air;
+A dim capacity for wings
+Degrades the dress I wear.
+
+
+A power of butterfly must be
+The aptitude to fly,
+Meadows of majesty concedes
+And easy sweeps of sky.
+
+
+So I must baffle at the hint
+And cipher at the sign,
+And make much blunder, if at last
+I take the clew divine.
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+VII.
+
+
+SETTING SAIL.
+
+
+Exultation is the going
+Of an inland soul to sea, --
+Past the houses, past the headlands,
+Into deep eternity!
+
+
+Bred as we, among the mountains,
+Can the sailor understand
+The divine intoxication
+Of the first league out from land?
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+VIII.
+
+
+Look back on time with kindly eyes,
+He doubtless did his best;
+How softly sinks his trembling sun
+In human nature's west!
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+IX.
+
+
+A train went through a burial gate,
+A bird broke forth and sang,
+And trilled, and quivered, and shook his throat
+Till all the churchyard rang;
+
+
+And then adjusted his little notes,
+And bowed and sang again.
+Doubtless, he thought it meet of him
+To say good-by to men.
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+X.
+
+
+I died for beauty, but was scarce
+Adjusted in the tomb,
+When one who died for truth was lain
+In an adjoining room.
+
+
+He questioned softly why I failed?
+"For beauty," I replied.
+"And I for truth, -- the two are one;
+We brethren are," he said.
+
+
+And so, as kinsmen met a night,
+We talked between the rooms,
+Until the moss had reached our lips,
+And covered up our names.
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+XI.
+
+
+"TROUBLED ABOUT MANY THINGS."
+
+
+How many times these low feet staggered,
+Only the soldered mouth can tell;
+Try! can you stir the awful rivet?
+Try! can you lift the hasps of steel?
+
+
+Stroke the cool forehead, hot so often,
+Lift, if you can, the listless hair;
+Handle the adamantine fingers
+Never a thimble more shall wear.
+
+
+Buzz the dull flies on the chamber window;
+Brave shines the sun through the freckled pane;
+Fearless the cobweb swings from the ceiling --
+Indolent housewife, in daisies lain!
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+XII.
+
+
+REAL.
+
+
+I like a look of agony,
+Because I know it 's true;
+Men do not sham convulsion,
+Nor simulate a throe.
+
+
+The eyes glaze once, and that is death.
+Impossible to feign
+The beads upon the forehead
+By homely anguish strung.
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+XIII.
+
+
+THE FUNERAL.
+
+
+That short, potential stir
+That each can make but once,
+That bustle so illustrious
+'T is almost consequence,
+
+
+Is the eclat of death.
+Oh, thou unknown renown
+That not a beggar would accept,
+Had he the power to spurn!
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+XIV.
+
+
+I went to thank her,
+But she slept;
+Her bed a funnelled stone,
+With nosegays at the head and foot,
+That travellers had thrown,
+
+
+Who went to thank her;
+But she slept.
+'T was short to cross the sea
+To look upon her like, alive,
+But turning back 't was slow.
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+XV.
+
+
+I've seen a dying eye
+Run round and round a room
+In search of something, as it seemed,
+Then cloudier become;
+And then, obscure with fog,
+And then be soldered down,
+Without disclosing what it be,
+'T were blessed to have seen.
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+XVI.
+
+
+REFUGE.
+
+
+The clouds their backs together laid,
+The north begun to push,
+The forests galloped till they fell,
+The lightning skipped like mice;
+The thunder crumbled like a stuff --
+How good to be safe in tombs,
+Where nature's temper cannot reach,
+Nor vengeance ever comes!
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+XVII.
+
+
+I never saw a moor,
+I never saw the sea;
+Yet know I how the heather looks,
+And what a wave must be.
+
+
+I never spoke with God,
+Nor visited in heaven;
+Yet certain am I of the spot
+As if the chart were given.
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+XVIII.
+
+
+PLAYMATES.
+
+
+God permits industrious angels
+Afternoons to play.
+I met one, -- forgot my school-mates,
+All, for him, straightway.
+
+
+God calls home the angels promptly
+At the setting sun;
+I missed mine. How dreary marbles,
+After playing Crown!
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+XIX.
+
+
+To know just how he suffered would be dear;
+To know if any human eyes were near
+To whom he could intrust his wavering gaze,
+Until it settled firm on Paradise.
+
+
+To know if he was patient, part content,
+Was dying as he thought, or different;
+Was it a pleasant day to die,
+And did the sunshine face his way?
+
+
+What was his furthest mind, of home, or God,
+Or what the distant say
+At news that he ceased human nature
+On such a day?
+
+
+And wishes, had he any?
+Just his sigh, accented,
+Had been legible to me.
+And was he confident until
+Ill fluttered out in everlasting well?
+
+
+And if he spoke, what name was best,
+What first,
+What one broke off with
+At the drowsiest?
+
+
+Was he afraid, or tranquil?
+Might he know
+How conscious consciousness could grow,
+Till love that was, and love too blest to be,
+Meet -- and the junction be Eternity?
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+XX.
+
+
+The last night that she lived,
+It was a common night,
+Except the dying; this to us
+Made nature different.
+
+
+We noticed smallest things, --
+Things overlooked before,
+By this great light upon our minds
+Italicized, as 't were.
+
+
+That others could exist
+While she must finish quite,
+A jealousy for her arose
+So nearly infinite.
+
+
+We waited while she passed;
+It was a narrow time,
+Too jostled were our souls to speak,
+At length the notice came.
+
+
+She mentioned, and forgot;
+Then lightly as a reed
+Bent to the water, shivered scarce,
+Consented, and was dead.
+
+
+And we, we placed the hair,
+And drew the head erect;
+And then an awful leisure was,
+Our faith to regulate.
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+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!
+Past midnight, past the morning star!
+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.
+He, waking, finds the flower near.
+"Wherefore, marauder, art thou here?"
+   "Because, sir, love is sweet!"
+
+
+We are the flower, Thou the sun!
+Forgive us, if as days decline,
+   We nearer steal to Thee, --
+Enamoured of the parting west,
+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.
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+XI.
+
+
+COMPENSATION.
+
+
+For each ecstatic instant
+We must an anguish pay
+In keen and quivering ratio
+To the ecstasy.
+
+
+For each beloved hour
+Sharp pittances of years,
+Bitter contested farthings
+And coffers heaped with tears.
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+XII.
+
+
+THE MARTYRS.
+
+
+Through the straight pass of suffering
+The martyrs even trod,
+Their feet upon temptation,
+Their faces upon God.
+
+
+A stately, shriven company;
+Convulsion playing round,
+Harmless as streaks of meteor
+Upon a planet's bound.
+
+
+Their faith the everlasting troth;
+Their expectation fair;
+The needle to the north degree
+Wades so, through polar air.
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+XIII.
+
+
+A PRAYER.
+
+
+I meant to have but modest needs,
+Such as content, and heaven;
+Within my income these could lie,
+And life and I keep even.
+
+
+But since the last included both,
+It would suffice my prayer
+But just for one to stipulate,
+And grace would grant the pair.
+
+
+And so, upon this wise I prayed, --
+Great Spirit, give to me
+A heaven not so large as yours,
+But large enough for me.
+
+
+A smile suffused Jehovah's face;
+The cherubim withdrew;
+Grave saints stole out to look at me,
+And showed their dimples, too.
+
+
+I left the place with all my might, --
+My prayer away I threw;
+The quiet ages picked it up,
+And Judgment twinkled, too,
+
+
+That one so honest be extant
+As take the tale for true
+That "Whatsoever you shall ask,
+Itself be given you."
+
+
+But I, grown shrewder, scan the skies
+With a suspicious air, --
+As children, swindled for the first,
+All swindlers be, infer.
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+XIV.
+
+
+The thought beneath so slight a film
+Is more distinctly seen, --
+As laces just reveal the surge,
+Or mists the Apennine.
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+XV.
+
+
+The soul unto itself
+Is an imperial friend, --
+Or the most agonizing spy
+An enemy could send.
+
+
+Secure against its own,
+No treason it can fear;
+Itself its sovereign, of itself
+The soul should stand in awe.
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+XVI.
+
+
+Surgeons must be very careful
+When they take the knife!
+Underneath their fine incisions
+Stirs the culprit, -- Life!
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+XVII.
+
+
+THE RAILWAY TRAIN.
+
+
+I like to see it lap the miles,
+And lick the valleys up,
+And stop to feed itself at tanks;
+And then, prodigious, step
+
+
+Around a pile of mountains,
+And, supercilious, peer
+In shanties by the sides of roads;
+And then a quarry pare
+
+
+To fit its sides, and crawl between,
+Complaining all the while
+In horrid, hooting stanza;
+Then chase itself down hill
+
+
+And neigh like Boanerges;
+Then, punctual as a star,
+Stop -- docile and omnipotent --
+At its own stable door.
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+XVIII.
+
+
+THE SHOW.
+
+
+The show is not the show,
+But they that go.
+Menagerie to me
+My neighbor be.
+Fair play --
+Both went to see.
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+XIX.
+
+
+Delight becomes pictorial
+When viewed through pain, --
+More fair, because impossible
+That any gain.
+
+
+The mountain at a given distance
+In amber lies;
+Approached, the amber flits a little, --
+And that 's the skies!
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+XX.
+
+
+A thought went up my mind to-day
+That I have had before,
+But did not finish, -- some way back,
+I could not fix the year,
+
+
+Nor where it went, nor why it came
+The second time to me,
+Nor definitely what it was,
+Have I the art to say.
+
+
+But somewhere in my soul, I know
+I 've met the thing before;
+It just reminded me -- 't was all --
+And came my way no more.
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+XXI.
+
+
+Is Heaven a physician?
+They say that He can heal,
+But medicine posthumous
+   Is unavailable.
+
+
+Is Heaven an exchequer?
+   They speak of what we owe;
+But that negotiation
+   I 'm not a party to.
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+XXII.
+
+
+THE RETURN.
+
+
+Though I get home how late, how late!
+So I get home, 't will compensate.
+Better will be the ecstasy
+That they have done expecting me,
+When, night descending, dumb and dark,
+They hear my unexpected knock.
+Transporting must the moment be,
+Brewed from decades of agony!
+
+
+To think just how the fire will burn,
+Just how long-cheated eyes will turn
+To wonder what myself will say,
+And what itself will say to me,
+Beguiles the centuries of way!
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+XXIII.
+
+
+A poor torn heart, a tattered heart,
+That sat it down to rest,
+Nor noticed that the ebbing day
+Flowed silver to the west,
+Nor noticed night did soft descend
+Nor constellation burn,
+Intent upon the vision
+Of latitudes unknown.
+
+
+The angels, happening that way,
+This dusty heart espied;
+Tenderly took it up from toil
+And carried it to God.
+There, -- sandals for the barefoot;
+There, -- gathered from the gales,
+Do the blue havens by the hand
+Lead the wandering sails.
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+XXIV.
+
+
+TOO MUCH.
+
+
+I should have been too glad, I see,
+Too lifted for the scant degree
+   Of life's penurious round;
+My little circuit would have shamed
+This new circumference, have blamed
+   The homelier time behind.
+
+
+I should have been too saved, I see,
+Too rescued; fear too dim to me
+   That I could spell the prayer
+I knew so perfect yesterday, --
+That scalding one, "Sabachthani,"
+   Recited fluent here.
+
+
+Earth would have been too much, I see,
+And heaven not enough for me;
+   I should have had the joy
+Without the fear to justify, --
+The palm without the Calvary;
+   So, Saviour, crucify.
+
+
+Defeat whets victory, they say;
+The reefs in old Gethsemane
+   Endear the shore beyond.
+'T is beggars banquets best define;
+'T is thirsting vitalizes wine, --
+   Faith faints to understand.
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+XXV.
+
+
+SHIPWRECK.
+
+
+It tossed and tossed, --
+A little brig I knew, --
+O'ertook by blast,
+It spun and spun,
+And groped delirious, for morn.
+
+
+It slipped and slipped,
+As one that drunken stepped;
+Its white foot tripped,
+Then dropped from sight.
+
+
+Ah, brig, good-night
+To crew and you;
+The ocean's heart too smooth, too blue,
+To break for you.
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+XXVI.
+
+
+Victory comes late,
+And is held low to freezing lips
+Too rapt with frost
+To take it.
+How sweet it would have tasted,
+Just a drop!
+Was God so economical?
+His table 's spread too high for us
+Unless we dine on tip-toe.
+Crumbs fit such little mouths,
+Cherries suit robins;
+The eagle's golden breakfast
+Strangles them.
+God keeps his oath to sparrows,
+Who of little love
+Know how to starve!
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+XXVII.
+
+
+ENOUGH.
+
+
+God gave a loaf to every bird,
+But just a crumb to me;
+I dare not eat it, though I starve, --
+My poignant luxury
+To own it, touch it, prove the feat
+That made the pellet mine, --
+Too happy in my sparrow chance
+For ampler coveting.
+
+
+It might be famine all around,
+I could not miss an ear,
+Such plenty smiles upon my board,
+My garner shows so fair.
+I wonder how the rich may feel, --
+An Indiaman -- an Earl?
+I deem that I with but a crumb
+Am sovereign of them all.
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+XXVIII.
+
+
+Experiment to me
+Is every one I meet.
+If it contain a kernel?
+The figure of a nut
+
+
+Presents upon a tree,
+Equally plausibly;
+But meat within is requisite,
+To squirrels and to me.
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+XXIX.
+
+
+MY COUNTRY'S WARDROBE.
+
+
+My country need not change her gown,
+Her triple suit as sweet
+As when 't was cut at Lexington,
+And first pronounced "a fit."
+
+
+Great Britain disapproves "the stars;"
+Disparagement discreet, --
+There 's something in their attitude
+That taunts her bayonet.
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+XXX.
+
+
+Faith is a fine invention
+For gentlemen who see;
+But microscopes are prudent
+In an emergency!
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+XXXI.
+
+
+Except the heaven had come so near,
+So seemed to choose my door,
+The distance would not haunt me so;
+I had not hoped before.
+
+
+But just to hear the grace depart
+I never thought to see,
+Afflicts me with a double loss;
+'T is lost, and lost to me.
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+XXXII.
+
+
+Portraits are to daily faces
+As an evening west
+To a fine, pedantic sunshine
+In a satin vest.
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+XXXIII.
+
+
+THE DUEL.
+
+
+I took my power in my hand.
+And went against the world;
+'T was not so much as David had,
+But I was twice as bold.
+
+
+I aimed my pebble, but myself
+Was all the one that fell.
+Was it Goliath was too large,
+Or only I too small?
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+XXXIV.
+
+
+A shady friend for torrid days
+Is easier to find
+Than one of higher temperature
+For frigid hour of mind.
+
+
+The vane a little to the east
+Scares muslin souls away;
+If broadcloth breasts are firmer
+Than those of organdy,
+
+
+Who is to blame? The weaver?
+Ah! the bewildering thread!
+The tapestries of paradise
+So notelessly are made!
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+XXXV.
+
+
+THE GOAL.
+
+
+Each life converges to some centre
+Expressed or still;
+Exists in every human nature
+A goal,
+
+
+Admitted scarcely to itself, it may be,
+Too fair
+For credibility's temerity
+To dare.
+
+
+Adored with caution, as a brittle heaven,
+To reach
+Were hopeless as the rainbow's raiment
+To touch,
+
+
+Yet persevered toward, surer for the distance;
+How high
+Unto the saints' slow diligence
+The sky!
+
+
+Ungained, it may be, by a life's low venture,
+But then,
+Eternity enables the endeavoring
+Again.
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+XXXVI.
+
+
+SIGHT.
+
+
+Before I got my eye put out,
+I liked as well to see
+As other creatures that have eyes,
+And know no other way.
+
+
+But were it told to me, to-day,
+That I might have the sky
+For mine, I tell you that my heart
+Would split, for size of me.
+
+
+The meadows mine, the mountains mine, --
+All forests, stintless stars,
+As much of noon as I could take
+Between my finite eyes.
+
+
+The motions of the dipping birds,
+The lightning's jointed road,
+For mine to look at when I liked, --
+The news would strike me dead!
+
+
+So safer, guess, with just my soul
+Upon the window-pane
+Where other creatures put their eyes,
+Incautious of the sun.
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+XXXVII.
+
+
+Talk with prudence to a beggar
+Of 'Potosi' and the mines!
+Reverently to the hungry
+Of your viands and your wines!
+
+
+Cautious, hint to any captive
+You have passed enfranchised feet!
+Anecdotes of air in dungeons
+Have sometimes proved deadly sweet!
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+XXXVIII.
+
+
+THE PREACHER.
+
+
+He preached upon "breadth" till it argued him narrow, --
+The broad are too broad to define;
+And of "truth" until it proclaimed him a liar, --
+The truth never flaunted a sign.
+
+
+Simplicity fled from his counterfeit presence
+As gold the pyrites would shun.
+What confusion would cover the innocent Jesus
+To meet so enabled a man!
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+XXXIX.
+
+
+Good night! which put the candle out?
+A jealous zephyr, not a doubt.
+   Ah! friend, you little knew
+How long at that celestial wick
+The angels labored diligent;
+   Extinguished, now, for you!
+
+
+It might have been the lighthouse spark
+Some sailor, rowing in the dark,
+   Had importuned to see!
+It might have been the waning lamp
+That lit the drummer from the camp
+   To purer reveille!
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+XL.
+
+
+When I hoped I feared,
+Since I hoped I dared;
+Everywhere alone
+As a church remain;
+Spectre cannot harm,
+Serpent cannot charm;
+He deposes doom,
+Who hath suffered him.
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+XLI.
+
+
+DEED.
+
+
+A deed knocks first at thought,
+And then it knocks at will.
+That is the manufacturing spot,
+And will at home and well.
+
+
+It then goes out an act,
+Or is entombed so still
+That only to the ear of God
+Its doom is audible.
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+XLII.
+
+
+TIME'S LESSON.
+
+
+Mine enemy is growing old, --
+I have at last revenge.
+The palate of the hate departs;
+If any would avenge, --
+
+
+Let him be quick, the viand flits,
+It is a faded meat.
+Anger as soon as fed is dead;
+'T is starving makes it fat.
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+XLIII.
+
+
+REMORSE.
+
+
+Remorse is memory awake,
+Her companies astir, --
+A presence of departed acts
+At window and at door.
+
+
+It's past set down before the soul,
+And lighted with a match,
+Perusal to facilitate
+Of its condensed despatch.
+
+
+Remorse is cureless, -- the disease
+Not even God can heal;
+For 't is his institution, --
+The complement of hell.
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+XLIV.
+
+
+THE SHELTER.
+
+
+The body grows outside, --
+The more convenient way, --
+That if the spirit like to hide,
+Its temple stands alway
+
+
+Ajar, secure, inviting;
+It never did betray
+The soul that asked its shelter
+In timid honesty.
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+XLV.
+
+
+Undue significance a starving man attaches
+To food
+Far off; he sighs, and therefore hopeless,
+And therefore good.
+
+
+Partaken, it relieves indeed, but proves us
+That spices fly
+In the receipt. It was the distance
+Was savory.
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+XLVI.
+
+
+Heart not so heavy as mine,
+Wending late home,
+As it passed my window
+Whistled itself a tune, --
+
+
+A careless snatch, a ballad,
+A ditty of the street;
+Yet to my irritated ear
+An anodyne so sweet,
+
+
+It was as if a bobolink,
+Sauntering this way,
+Carolled and mused and carolled,
+Then bubbled slow away.
+
+
+It was as if a chirping brook
+Upon a toilsome way
+Set bleeding feet to minuets
+Without the knowing why.
+
+
+To-morrow, night will come again,
+Weary, perhaps, and sore.
+Ah, bugle, by my window,
+I pray you stroll once more!
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+XLVII.
+
+
+I many times thought peace had come,
+When peace was far away;
+As wrecked men deem they sight the land
+At centre of the sea,
+
+
+And struggle slacker, but to prove,
+As hopelessly as I,
+How many the fictitious shores
+Before the harbor lie.
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+XLVIII.
+
+
+Unto my books so good to turn
+Far ends of tired days;
+It half endears the abstinence,
+And pain is missed in praise.
+
+
+As flavors cheer retarded guests
+With banquetings to be,
+So spices stimulate the time
+Till my small library.
+
+
+It may be wilderness without,
+Far feet of failing men,
+But holiday excludes the night,
+And it is bells within.
+
+
+I thank these kinsmen of the shelf;
+Their countenances bland
+Enamour in prospective,
+And satisfy, obtained.
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+XLIX.
+
+
+This merit hath the worst, --
+It cannot be again.
+When Fate hath taunted last
+And thrown her furthest stone,
+
+
+The maimed may pause and breathe,
+And glance securely round.
+The deer invites no longer
+Than it eludes the hound.
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+L.
+
+
+HUNGER.
+
+
+I had been hungry all the years;
+My noon had come, to dine;
+I, trembling, drew the table near,
+And touched the curious wine.
+
+
+'T was this on tables I had seen,
+When turning, hungry, lone,
+I looked in windows, for the wealth
+I could not hope to own.
+
+
+I did not know the ample bread,
+'T was so unlike the crumb
+The birds and I had often shared
+In Nature's dining-room.
+
+
+The plenty hurt me, 't was so new, --
+Myself felt ill and odd,
+As berry of a mountain bush
+Transplanted to the road.
+
+
+Nor was I hungry; so I found
+That hunger was a way
+Of persons outside windows,
+The entering takes away.
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+LI.
+
+
+I gained it so,
+      By climbing slow,
+By catching at the twigs that grow
+Between the bliss and me.
+      It hung so high,
+      As well the sky
+      Attempt by strategy.
+
+
+
+
+I said I gained it, --
+      This was all.
+Look, how I clutch it,
+      Lest it fall,
+And I a pauper go;
+Unfitted by an instant's grace
+For the contented beggar's face
+I wore an hour ago.
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+LII.
+
+
+To learn the transport by the pain,
+As blind men learn the sun;
+To die of thirst, suspecting
+That brooks in meadows run;
+
+
+To stay the homesick, homesick feet
+Upon a foreign shore
+Haunted by native lands, the while,
+And blue, beloved air --
+
+
+This is the sovereign anguish,
+This, the signal woe!
+These are the patient laureates
+Whose voices, trained below,
+
+
+Ascend in ceaseless carol,
+Inaudible, indeed,
+To us, the duller scholars
+Of the mysterious bard!
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+LIII.
+
+
+RETURNING.
+
+
+I years had been from home,
+And now, before the door,
+I dared not open, lest a face
+I never saw before
+
+
+Stare vacant into mine
+And ask my business there.
+My business, -- just a life I left,
+Was such still dwelling there?
+
+
+I fumbled at my nerve,
+I scanned the windows near;
+The silence like an ocean rolled,
+And broke against my ear.
+
+
+I laughed a wooden laugh
+That I could fear a door,
+Who danger and the dead had faced,
+But never quaked before.
+
+
+I fitted to the latch
+My hand, with trembling care,
+Lest back the awful door should spring,
+And leave me standing there.
+
+
+I moved my fingers off
+As cautiously as glass,
+And held my ears, and like a thief
+Fled gasping from the house.
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+LIV.
+
+
+PRAYER.
+
+
+Prayer is the little implement
+Through which men reach
+Where presence is denied them.
+They fling their speech
+
+
+By means of it in God's ear;
+If then He hear,
+This sums the apparatus
+Comprised in prayer.
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+LV.
+
+
+I know that he exists
+Somewhere, in silence.
+He has hid his rare life
+From our gross eyes.
+
+
+'T is an instant's play,
+'T is a fond ambush,
+Just to make bliss
+Earn her own surprise!
+
+
+But should the play
+Prove piercing earnest,
+Should the glee glaze
+In death's stiff stare,
+
+
+Would not the fun
+Look too expensive?
+Would not the jest
+Have crawled too far?
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+LVI.
+
+
+MELODIES UNHEARD.
+
+
+Musicians wrestle everywhere:
+All day, among the crowded air,
+  I hear the silver strife;
+And -- waking long before the dawn --
+Such transport breaks upon the town
+  I think it that "new life!"
+
+
+It is not bird, it has no nest;
+Nor band, in brass and scarlet dressed,
+  Nor tambourine, nor man;
+It is not hymn from pulpit read, --
+The morning stars the treble led
+  On time's first afternoon!
+
+
+Some say it is the spheres at play!
+Some say that bright majority
+  Of vanished dames and men!
+Some think it service in the place
+Where we, with late, celestial face,
+  Please God, shall ascertain!
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+LVII.
+
+
+CALLED BACK.
+
+
+Just lost when I was saved!
+Just felt the world go by!
+Just girt me for the onset with eternity,
+When breath blew back,
+And on the other side
+I heard recede the disappointed tide!
+
+
+Therefore, as one returned, I feel,
+Odd secrets of the line to tell!
+Some sailor, skirting foreign shores,
+Some pale reporter from the awful doors
+Before the seal!
+
+
+Next time, to stay!
+Next time, the things to see
+By ear unheard,
+Unscrutinized by eye.
+
+
+Next time, to tarry,
+While the ages steal, --
+Slow tramp the centuries,
+And the cycles wheel.
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+II. LOVE.
+
+
+
+
+I.
+
+
+CHOICE.
+
+
+Of all the souls that stand create
+I have elected one.
+When sense from spirit files away,
+And subterfuge is done;
+
+
+When that which is and that which was
+Apart, intrinsic, stand,
+And this brief tragedy of flesh
+Is shifted like a sand;
+
+
+When figures show their royal front
+And mists are carved away, --
+Behold the atom I preferred
+To all the lists of clay!
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+II.
+
+
+I have no life but this,
+To lead it here;
+Nor any death, but lest
+Dispelled from there;
+
+
+Nor tie to earths to come,
+Nor action new,
+Except through this extent,
+The realm of you.
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+III.
+
+
+Your riches taught me poverty.
+Myself a millionnaire
+In little wealths, -- as girls could boast, --
+Till broad as Buenos Ayre,
+
+
+You drifted your dominions
+A different Peru;
+And I esteemed all poverty,
+For life's estate with you.
+
+
+Of mines I little know, myself,
+But just the names of gems, --
+The colors of the commonest;
+And scarce of diadems
+
+
+So much that, did I meet the queen,
+Her glory I should know:
+But this must be a different wealth,
+To miss it beggars so.
+
+
+I 'm sure 't is India all day
+To those who look on you
+Without a stint, without a blame, --
+Might I but be the Jew!
+
+
+I 'm sure it is Golconda,
+Beyond my power to deem, --
+To have a smile for mine each day,
+How better than a gem!
+
+
+At least, it solaces to know
+That there exists a gold,
+Although I prove it just in time
+Its distance to behold!
+
+
+It 's far, far treasure to surmise,
+And estimate the pearl
+That slipped my simple fingers through
+While just a girl at school!
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+IV.
+
+
+THE CONTRACT.
+
+
+I gave myself to him,
+And took himself for pay.
+The solemn contract of a life
+Was ratified this way.
+
+
+The wealth might disappoint,
+Myself a poorer prove
+Than this great purchaser suspect,
+The daily own of Love
+
+
+Depreciate the vision;
+But, till the merchant buy,
+Still fable, in the isles of spice,
+The subtle cargoes lie.
+
+
+At least, 't is mutual risk, --
+Some found it mutual gain;
+Sweet debt of Life, -- each night to owe,
+Insolvent, every noon.
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+V.
+
+
+THE LETTER.
+
+
+"GOING to him! Happy letter! Tell him --
+Tell him the page I didn't write;
+Tell him I only said the syntax,
+And left the verb and the pronoun out.
+Tell him just how the fingers hurried,
+Then how they waded, slow, slow, slow;
+And then you wished you had eyes in your pages,
+So you could see what moved them so.
+
+
+"Tell him it wasn't a practised writer,
+You guessed, from the way the sentence toiled;
+You could hear the bodice tug, behind you,
+As if it held but the might of a child;
+You almost pitied it, you, it worked so.
+Tell him -- No, you may quibble there,
+For it would split his heart to know it,
+And then you and I were silenter.
+
+
+"Tell him night finished before we finished,
+And the old clock kept neighing 'day!'
+And you got sleepy and begged to be ended --
+What could it hinder so, to say?
+Tell him just how she sealed you, cautious,
+But if he ask where you are hid
+Until to-morrow, -- happy letter!
+Gesture, coquette, and shake your head!"
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+VI.
+
+
+The way I read a letter 's this:
+'T is first I lock the door,
+And push it with my fingers next,
+For transport it be sure.
+
+
+And then I go the furthest off
+To counteract a knock;
+Then draw my little letter forth
+And softly pick its lock.
+
+
+Then, glancing narrow at the wall,
+And narrow at the floor,
+For firm conviction of a mouse
+Not exorcised before,
+
+
+Peruse how infinite I am
+To -- no one that you know!
+And sigh for lack of heaven, -- but not
+The heaven the creeds bestow.
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+VII.
+
+
+Wild nights! Wild nights!
+Were I with thee,
+Wild nights should be
+Our luxury!
+
+
+Futile the winds
+To a heart in port, --
+Done with the compass,
+Done with the chart.
+
+
+Rowing in Eden!
+Ah! the sea!
+Might I but moor
+To-night in thee!
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+VIII.
+
+
+AT HOME.
+
+
+The night was wide, and furnished scant
+With but a single star,
+That often as a cloud it met
+Blew out itself for fear.
+
+
+The wind pursued the little bush,
+And drove away the leaves
+November left; then clambered up
+And fretted in the eaves.
+
+
+No squirrel went abroad;
+A dog's belated feet
+Like intermittent plush were heard
+Adown the empty street.
+
+
+To feel if blinds be fast,
+And closer to the fire
+Her little rocking-chair to draw,
+And shiver for the poor,
+
+
+The housewife's gentle task.
+"How pleasanter," said she
+Unto the sofa opposite,
+"The sleet than May -- no thee!"
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+IX.
+
+
+POSSESSION.
+
+
+Did the harebell loose her girdle
+To the lover bee,
+Would the bee the harebell hallow
+Much as formerly?
+
+
+Did the paradise, persuaded,
+Yield her moat of pearl,
+Would the Eden be an Eden,
+Or the earl an earl?
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+X.
+
+
+A charm invests a face
+Imperfectly beheld, --
+The lady dare not lift her veil
+For fear it be dispelled.
+
+
+But peers beyond her mesh,
+And wishes, and denies, --
+Lest interview annul a want
+That image satisfies.
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+XI.
+
+
+THE LOVERS.
+
+
+The rose did caper on her cheek,
+Her bodice rose and fell,
+Her pretty speech, like drunken men,
+Did stagger pitiful.
+
+
+Her fingers fumbled at her work, --
+Her needle would not go;
+What ailed so smart a little maid
+It puzzled me to know,
+
+
+Till opposite I spied a cheek
+That bore another rose;
+Just opposite, another speech
+That like the drunkard goes;
+
+
+A vest that, like the bodice, danced
+To the immortal tune, --
+Till those two troubled little clocks
+Ticked softly into one.
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+XII.
+
+
+In lands I never saw, they say,
+Immortal Alps look down,
+Whose bonnets touch the firmament,
+Whose sandals touch the town, --
+
+
+Meek at whose everlasting feet
+A myriad daisies play.
+Which, sir, are you, and which am I,
+Upon an August day?