• Distance — is not the Realm of Fox

    Nor by Relay of Bird

    Abated — Distance is

    Until thyself, Beloved.

  • Distrustful of the Gentian —

    And just to turn away,

    The fluttering of her fringes

    Chid my perfidy —

    Weary for my —————

    I will singing go —

    I shall not feel the sleet — then —

    I shall not fear the snow.


    Flees so the phantom meadow

    Before the breathless Bee —...

  • John Gilpin was a citizen

    Of credit and renown,

    A train-band captain eke was he,

    Of famous London town.


    John Gilpin's spouse said to her dear,

    "Though wedded we have been

    These twice ten tedious years, yet we

    No holiday have seen.


    "To-morrow is our wedding-day,
    ...

  • Spider, say again!

    It’s so hard to hear your voice

    in the autumn wind.

  • Do People moulder equally,

    They bury, in the Grave?

    I do believe a Species

    As positively live


    As I, who testify it

    Deny that I — am dead —

    And fill my Lungs, for Witness —

    From Tanks — above my Head —


    I say to you, said Jesus —

    That there be standing here...


  • *


    Do what you will this Life’s a fiction,[3]

    And is made up [o][4] of Contradiction.

     
    ...

  • Dominion lasts until obtained —

    Possession just as long —

    But these — endowing as they flit

    Eternally belong.


    How everlasting are the Lips

    Known only to the Dew —

    These are the Brides of permanence

    Supplanting me and you.

  • A great stone man rose like a tower on board,

       Stood at the helm and cleft the flood profound:

    But the calm hero, leaning on his sword,

       Gazed back, and would not offer one look round.

  • Don't put up my Thread and Needle —

    I'll begin to Sew

    When the Birds begin to whistle —

    Better Stitches — so —


    These were bent — my sight got crooked —

    When my mind — is plain

    I'll do seams — a Queen's endeavor

    Would not blush to own —


    Hems — too fine for Lady's...

  • Doom is the House without the Door —

    'Tis entered from the Sun —

    And then the Ladder's thrown away,

    Because Escape — is done —


    'Tis varied by the Dream

    Of what they do outside —

    Where Squirrels play — and Berries die —

    And Hemlocks — bow — to God —