TO Lyttleton the muse this off'ring pays;
Who sings of liberty, must sing his praise.
This man, ye grateful Britons, all revere;
Here raise your altars, bring your incense here.
To him the praise, the blessings which ye owe,
More than their sires your grateful sons shall know.
O! for...
Where'er he be, on water or land,
Under pale suns or climes that flames enfold;
One of Christ's own, or of Cythera's band,
Shadowy beggar or...
Life — is what we make of it —
Death — we do not know —
Christ's acquaintance with Him
Justify Him — though —
He — would trust no stranger —
Other — could betray —
Just His own endorsement —
That — sufficeth Me —
All the other Distance
He hath traversed...
Life, and Death, and Giants —
Such as These — are still —
Minor — Apparatus — Hopper of the Mill —
Beetle at the Candle —
Or a Fife's Fame —
Maintain — by Accident that they proclaim —
Lift it — with the Feathers
Not alone we fly —
Launch it — the aquatic
Not the only sea —
Advocate the Azure
To the lower Eyes —
He has obligation
Who has Paradise —
Light is sufficient to itself —
If Others want to see
It can be had on Window Panes
Some Hours in the Day.
But not for Compensation —
It holds as large a Glow
To Squirrel in the Himmaleh
Precisely, as to you.
Lightly stepped a yellow star
To its lofty place —
Loosed the Moon her silver hat
From her lustral Face —
All of Evening softly lit
As an Astral Hall —
Father, I observed to Heaven,
You are punctual.
Like Brooms of Steel
The Snow and Wind
Had swept the Winter Street —
The House was hooked
The Sun sent out
Faint Deputies of Heat —
Where rode the Bird
The Silence tied
His ample — plodding Steed
The Apple in the Cellar snug
Was all the one that played....
Like eyes that looked on Wastes —
Incredulous of Ought
But Blank — and steady Wilderness —
Diversified by Night —
Just Infinites of Nought —
As far as it could see —
So looked the face I looked upon —
So looked itself — on Me —
I offered it no Help —
...
Like Flowers, that heard the news of Dews,
But never deemed the dripping prize
Awaited their — low Brows —
Or Bees — that thought the Summer's name
Some rumor of Delirium,
No Summer — could — for Them —
Or Arctic Creatures, dimly stirred —
By Tropic Hint — some Travelled Bird
...