This Dust, and its Feature —
Accredited — Today —
Will in a second Future —
Cease to identify —
This Mind, and its measure —
A too minute Area
For its enlarged inspection's
Comparison — appear —
This World, and its species
A too concluded show
...
This ev'ning, Delia, you and I,
Have manag'd most delightfully,
For with a frown we parted;
Having contrived some trifle that
We both may be much troubled at,
And sadly disconcerted.
Yet well as each perform'd their part,
We might perceive it was but art,
And that...
This heart that broke so long —
These feet that never flagged —
This faith that watched for star in vain,
Give gently to the dead —
Hound cannot overtake the Hare
That fluttered panting, here —
Nor any schoolboy rob the nest
Tenderness builded there.
This is a Blossom of the Brain —
A small — italic Seed
Lodged by Design or Happening
The Spirit fructified —
Shy as the Wind of his Chambers
Swift as a Freshet's Tongue
So of the Flower of the Soul
Its process is unknown.
When it is found, a few rejoice
The...
This is my letter to the World
That never wrote to Me —
The simple News that Nature told —
With tender Majesty
Her Message is committed
To Hands I cannot see —
For love of Her — Sweet — countrymen —
Judge tenderly — of Me
This is the place they hoped before,
Where I am hoping now.
The seed of disappointment grew
Within a capsule gay,
Too distant to arrest the feet
That walk this plank of balm —
Before them lies escapeless sea —
The way is closed they came.
This Me — that walks and works — must die,
Some fair or stormy Day,
Adversity if it may be
Or wild prosperity
The Rumor's Gate was shut so tight
Before my mind was born
Not even a Prognostic's push
Can make a Dent thereon —
This Merit hath the worst —
It cannot be again —
When Fate hath taunted last
And thrown Her furthest Stone —
The Maimed may pause, and breathe,
And glance securely round —
The Deer attracts no further
Than it resists — the Hound —
This quiet Dust was Gentleman and Ladies
And Lads and Girls —
Was laughter and ability and Sighing
And Frocks and Curls.
This Passive Place a Summer's nimble mansion
Where Bloom and Bees
Exists an Oriental Circuit
Then cease, like these —
This slow Day moved along —
I heard its axles go
As if they could not hoist themselves
They hated motion so —
I told my soul to come —
It was no use to wait —
We went and played and came again
And it was out of sight —