• An old man sits by the cottage door;

    The winds are hushed on the sunlit hills;

    He tells his rosary softly o'er,

    Till sudden music the silence...

  • The One who could repeat the Summer day —

    Were greater than itself — though He

    Minutest of Mankind should be —


    And He — could reproduce the Sun —

    At period of going down —

    The Lingering — and the Stain — I mean —


    When Orient have been outgrown —

    And Occident — become Unknown —...

  • The ones that disappeared are back

    The Phoebe and the Crow

    Precisely as in March is heard

    The curtness of the Jay —

    Be this an Autumn or a Spring

    My wisdom loses way

    One side of me the nuts are ripe

    The other side is May.

  • The only Ghost I ever saw

    Was dressed in Mechlin — so —

    He wore no sandal on his foot —

    And stepped like flakes of snow —


    His Gait — was soundless, like the Bird —

    But rapid — like the Roe —

    His fashions, quaint, Mosaic —

    Or haply, Mistletoe —


    His conversation — seldom...

  • The Only News I know

    Is Bulletins all Day

    From Immortality.


    The Only Shows I see —

    Tomorrow and Today —

    Perchance Eternity —


    The Only One I meet

    Is God — The Only Street —

    Existence — This traversed


    If Other News there be —

    Or Admirable...

  • The Opening and the Close

    Of Being, are alike

    Or differ, if they do,

    As Bloom upon a Stalk.


    That from an equal Seed

    Unto an equal Bud

    Go parallel, perfected

    In that they have decayed.

  • The Outer — from the Inner

    Derives its Magnitude —

    'Tis Duke, or Dwarf, according

    As is the Central Mood —


    The fine — unvarying Axis

    That regulates the Wheel —

    Though Spokes — spin — more conspicuous

    And fling a dust — the while.


    The Inner — paints the Outer —
    ...

  • My river runs to thee :

    Blue sea, wilt welcome me ?


    My river waits reply.

    Oh sea, look graciously !


    I'll fetch thee brooks

    From spotted nooks, —


    Say, sea, take me !

  • The overtakelessness of those

    Who have accomplished Death

    Majestic is to me beyond

    The majesties of Earth.


    The soul her "Not at Home"

    Inscribes upon the flesh —

    And takes her fair aerial gait

    Beyond the hope of touch.

  • The parasol is the umbrella's daughter,

    And associates with a fan

    While her father abuts the tempest

    And abridges the rain.


    The former assists a siren

    In her serene display;

    But her father is borne and honored,

    And borrowed to this day.