I lay in silence, dead. A woman came
And laid a rose upon my breast, and said,
“May God be merciful.” She spoke my name,
And added, “It is strange to think him dead.
“He loved me well enough, but ’t was his way
To speak it lightly.” Then, beneath her breath:
“Besides”—I knew what further she would say,
But then a...
Was there another Spring than this?
I half remember, through the haze
Of glimmering nights and golden days,
A broken-pinioned birdling’s note,
An angry sky, a sea-wrecked boat,
A wandering through rain-beaten ways!
Lean closer, love—I have thy kiss!
Was there another Spring than this?
Still apprehending death and pain,
To whom great God shall I complain?
To whom pour out my tears
But to the pow'r that gave me breath,
The arbiter of life and death,
...
Another
I was buried near this Dike
That my Friends may weep as much as they like
If I might see another Spring
I'd not plant summer flowers and wait:
I'd have my crocuses at once,
My leafless pink mezereons,
My chill-veined snowdrops, choicer yet
My white or azure violet,
Leaf-nested primrose; anything
To blow at once not late.
If I might see...
MISS Molly lays down as a positive rule,
That no one should marry for love, but a fool:
Exceptions to rules even Lilly allows;
Moll has sure an example at home in her spouse.
Embarrassment of one another
And God
Is Revelation's limit,
Aloud
Is nothing that is chief,
But still,
Divinity dwells under a seal.
