In many and reportless places
We feel a Joy —
Reportless, also, but sincere as Nature
Or Deity —
It comes, without a consternation —
Dissolves — the same —
But leaves a sumptuous Destitution —
Without a Name —
Profane it by a search — we cannot
It has no...
Farewell dear babe, my heart's too much content,
Farewell sweet babe, the pleasure of mine eye,
Farewell fair flower that for a space was lent,
Then ta'en away unto eternity.
Blest babe why should I once bewail thy fate,
Or sigh the days so soon were terminate;
Sith thou art settled in an everlasting...
In rags mysterious as these
The shining Courtiers go —
Veiling the purple, and the plumes —
Veiling the ermine so.
Smiling, as they request an alms —
At some imposing door!
Smiling when we walk barefoot
Upon their golden floor!
We see it each day in the paper,
And know that there's mischief in store;
That some unprofessional caper
Has landed a shark on the shore.
We know there'll be plenty of trouble
Before they get through with the fun,
Because he's been coming the double
On clients, has "Gentleman, One".
...
In snow thou comest —
Thou shalt go with the resuming ground,
The sweet derision of the crow,
And Glee's advancing sound.
In fear thou comest —
Thou shalt go at such a gait of joy
That man anew embark to live
Upon the depth of thee.
1. In the bleak mid-winter
Frosty wind made moan,
Earth stood hard as iron,
Water like a stone;
Snow had fallen, snow on snow,
...
In thy long Paradise of Light
No moment will there be
When I shall long for Earthly Play
And mortal Company —
And were you lost, I would be,
Though my name
Rang loudest
On the heavenly fame.
And were you saved,
And I condemned to be
Where you were not,
That self were hell to me.
So we must keep apart,
You there, I here,
With just the door ajar
...
In Winter in my Room
I came upon a Worm —
Pink, lank and warm —
But as he was a worm
And worms presume
Not quite with him at home —
Secured him by a string
To something neighboring
And went along.
A Trifle afterward
A thing occurred
I'd...
O sweet, sad autumn of the waning year,
Though in thy bowers the roses all lie dead,
And from thy woods the song of birds has fled,
And winter, stern and cold, is hovering near;
Yet from thy presence breathes a holy calm.
The fervid heats, the...