Gathered into the Earth,
And out of story —
Gathered so that strange Fame —
That lonesome Glory
That hath no omen here — but Awe —
-
-
High from the earth I heard a bird,
He trod upon the trees
As he esteemed them trifles,
And then he spied a breeze,
And situated softly
Upon a pile of wind
Which in a perturbation
Nature had left behind.
A joyous going fellow
I gathered from his talk
Which...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...So much of Heaven has gone from Earth
That there must be a Heaven
If only to enclose the Saints
To Affidavit given.
The Missionary to the Mole
Must prove there is a Sky
Location doubtless he would plead
But what excuse have I?
Too much of Proof affronts Belief
...Somewhere upon the general Earth
Itself exist Today —
The Magic passive but extant
That consecrated me —
Indifferent Seasons doubtless play
Where I for right to be —
Would pay each Atom that I am
But Immortality —
Reserving that but just to prove
Another...The Fact that Earth is Heaven —
Whether Heaven is Heaven or not
If not an Affidavit
Of that specific Spot
Not only must confirm us
That it is not for us
But that it would affront us
To dwell in such a place —There is no Silence in the Earth — so silent
As that endured
Which uttered, would discourage Nature
And haunt the World.