I gave myself to him,
And took himself for pay.
The solemn contract of a life
Was ratified this way
The value might disappoint,
Myself a poorer prove
Than this my purchaser suspect,
The daily own of Love
Depreciates the sight;
But, 'til the merchant buy,
Still fabled, in the isles of spice
The subtle cargoes lie.
At least, 'tis mutual risk,
Some found it mutual gain;
Sweet debt of Life, each night to owe,
Insolvent, every noon.
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 spake with God, Nor visited in heaven; Yet certain am I of the spot As if the chart were given.
Belshazzar had a letter,— He never had but one; Belshazzar’s correspondent Concluded and begun In that immortal copy The conscience of us all Can read without its glasses On revelation’s wall.
Will there really be a morning? Is there such a thing as day? Could I see it from the mountains If I were as tall as they? Has it feet like water lilies? Has it feathers like a bird? Is it brought from famous countries Of which I ’ve never heard? Oh some scholar, oh some sailor, Oh some wise man...
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...
The waking YEAR A LADY red upon the hill Her annual secret keeps; A lady white within the field In placid lily sleeps! The tidy breezes with their brooms Sweep vail, and hill, and tree! Prithee, my pretty housewives! Who may expected be? The neighbors do not yet suspect! The woods...
