• That I did always love,

    I bring thee proof :

    That till I loved

    I did not love enough.


    That I shall love alway,

    I offer thee

    That love is life,

    And life hath immortality.


    This, dost thou...



  • Death! thou real friend of innocence,

    Tho' dreadful unto shivering sense,

    I feel my nature tottering o'er

    Thy gloomy waves, which loudly roar:

    Immense the scene, yet dark the view,

    Nor Reason darts her vision thro'.

    Virtue! supreme of earthly good,

    Oh let thy rays illume the road...

  • Proud of my broken heart, since thou didst break it,

    Proud of the pain I did not feel till thee,


    Proud of my night, since thou with moons dost slake it,

    Not to partake thy passion, my humility.


    Thou can'st not boast, like Jesus, drunken without companion

    Was the strong cup of anguish brewed for the...

  • 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...

  • Publication — is the Auction

    Of the Mind of Man —

    Poverty — be justifying

    For so foul a thing


    Possibly — but We — would rather

    From Our Garret go

    White — Unto the White Creator —

    Than invest — Our Snow —


    Thought belong to Him who gave it —

    Then — to Him Who...

  • 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...

  • Purple — is fashionable twice —

    This season of the year,

    And when a soul perceives itself

    To be an Emperor.

  • Pursuing you in your transitions,

    In other Motes —

    Of other Myths

    Your requisition be.

    The Prism never held the Hues,

    It only heard them play —

  • Put up my lute!

    What of — my Music!

    Since the sole ear I cared to charm —

    Passive — as Granite — laps My Music —

    Sobbing — will suit — as well as psalm!


    Would but the "Memnon" of the Desert —

    Teach me the strain

    That vanquished Him —

    When He — surrendered to the Sunrise —...


  • * * *


    P——[4] loved me, not as he lovd his Friends

    For he lovd them for gain to serve his Ends

    He loved me and for no Gain at all[5]

    But to rejoice & triumph...