Yes; when the ways oppose —
When the hard means rebel,
Fairer the work outgrows, —
More potent far the spell.
O POET, then, forbear
The loosely-sandalled verse,
Choose rather thou to wear
The buskin — straight and terse;
Leave to the tiro...
Art thou the thing I wanted?
Begone — my Tooth has grown —
Supply the minor Palate
That has not starved so long —
I tell thee while I waited
The mystery of Food
Increased till I abjured it
And dine without Like God —
—
Art thou the thing I wanted?
...
Artists wrestled here!
Lo, a tint Cashmere!
Lo, a Rose!
Student of the Year!
For the easel here
Say Repose!
As by the dead we love to sit,
Become so wondrous dear —
As for the lost we grapple
Tho' all the rest are here —
In broken mathematics
We estimate our prize
Vast — in its fading ration
To our penurious eyes!
As children bid the guest good-night,
And then reluctant turn,
My flowers raise their pretty lips,
Then put their nightgowns on.
As children caper when they wake,
Merry that it is morn,
My flowers from a hundred cribs...
As far from pity, as complaint —
As cool to speech — as stone —
As numb to Revelation
As if my Trade were Bone —
As far from time — as History —
As near yourself — Today —
As Children, to the Rainbow's scarf —
Or Sunset's Yellow play
To eyelids in the Sepulchre —...
As from the earth the light Balloon
Asks nothing but release —
Ascension that for which it was,
Its soaring Residence.
The spirit looks upon the Dust
That fastened it so long
With indignation,
As a Bird
Defrauded of its song.
As Frost is best conceived
By force of its Result —
Affliction is inferred
By subsequent effect —
If when the sun reveal,
The Garden keep the Gash —
If as the Days resume
The wilted countenance
Cannot correct the crease
Or counteract the stain —
...
|
Version 1 As if some little Arctic flower |