• Their Height in Heaven comforts not —

    Their Glory — nought to me —

    'Twas best imperfect — as it was —

    I'm finite — I can't see —


    The House of Supposition —

    The Glimmering Frontier that

    Skirts the Acres of Perhaps —

    To Me — shows insecure —


    The Wealth I had — contented...

  • There are two Mays

    And then a Must

    And after that a Shall.

    How infinite the compromise

    That indicates I will!

  • There are two Ripenings — one — of sight —

    Whose forces Spheric wind

    Until the Velvet product

    Drop spicy to the ground —

    A homelier maturing —

    A process in the Bur —

    That teeth of Frosts alone disclose

    In far October Air.

  • There came a Day at Summer's full,

    Entirely for me —

    I thought that such were for the Saints,

    Where Resurrections — be —


    The Sun, as common, went abroad,

    The flowers, accustomed, blew,

    As if no soul the solstice passed

    That maketh all things new —


    The time was scarce...

  • There came a Wind like a Bugle —

    It quivered through the Grass

    And a Green Chill upon the Heat

    So ominous did pass

    We barred the Windows and the Doors

    As from an Emerald Ghost —

    The Doom's electric Moccasin

    That very instant passed —

    On a strange Mob of panting Trees

    ...

  • There comes a warning like a spy

    A shorter breath of Day

    A stealing that is not a stealth

    And Summers are away —

  • There comes an hour when begging stops,

    When the long interceding lips

    Perceive their prayer is vain.

    "Thou shalt not" is a kinder sword

    Than from a disappointing God

    "Disciple, call again."

  • There is a finished feeling

    Experienced at Graves —

    A leisure of the Future —

    A Wilderness of Size.


    By Death's bold Exhibition

    Preciser what we are

    And the Eternal function

    Enabled to infer.

  • There is a June when Corn is cut

    And Roses in the Seed —

    A Summer briefer than the first

    But tenderer indeed


    As should a Face supposed the Grave's

    Emerge a single Noon

    In the Vermilion that it wore

    Affect us, and return —


    Two Seasons, it is said, exist —

    ...