The Spider holds a Silver Ball
In unperceived Hands —
And dancing softly to Himself
His Yarn of Pearl — unwinds —
He plies from Nought to Nought —
In unsubstantial Trade —
Supplants our Tapestries with His —
In half the period —
An Hour to rear supreme
His...
The Spirit is the Conscious Ear.
We actually Hear
When We inspect — that's audible —
That is admitted — Here —
For other Services — as Sound —
There hangs a smaller Ear
Outside the Castle — that Contain —
The other — only — Hear —
The Spirit lasts — but in what mode —
Below, the Body speaks,
But as the Spirit furnishes —
Apart, it never talks —
The Music in the Violin
Does not emerge alone
But Arm in Arm with Touch, yet Touch
Alone — is not a Tune —
The Spirit lurks within the Flesh
Like Tides...
The spry Arms of the Wind
If I could crawl between
I have an errand imminent
To an adjoining Zone —
I should not care to stop
My Process is not long
The Wind could wait without the Gate
Or stroll the Town among.
To ascertain the House
And is the soul at...
The Stars are old, that stood for me —
The West a little worn —
Yet newer glows the only Gold
I ever cared to earn —
Presuming on that lone result
Her infinite disdain
But vanquished her with my defeat
'Twas Victory was slain.
The stem of a departed Flower
Has still a silent rank.
The Bearer from an Emerald Court
Of a Despatch of Pink.
The Stimulus, beyond the Grave
His Countenance to see
Supports me like imperial Drams
Afforded Day by Day.
The Suburbs of a Secret
A Strategist should keep,
Better than on a Dream intrude
To scrutinize the Sleep.
The Summer that we did not prize,
Her treasures were so easy
Instructs us by departing now
And recognition lazy —
Bestirs itself — puts on its Coat,
And scans with fatal promptness
For Trains that moment out of sight,
Unconscious of his smartness.
The Sun and Fog contested
The Government of Day —
The Sun took down his Yellow Whip
And drove the Fog away —