• It dropped so low — in my Regard —

    I heard it hit the Ground —

    And go to pieces on the Stones

    At bottom of my Mind —


    Yet blamed the Fate that flung it — less

    Than I denounced Myself,

    For entertaining Plated Wares

    Upon my Silver Shelf —

  • The Doomed — regard the Sunrise

    With different Delight —

    Because — when next it burns abroad

    They doubt to witness it —


    The Man — to die — tomorrow —

    Harks for the Meadow Bird —

    Because its Music stirs the Axe

    That clamors for his head —


    Joyful — to whom the Sunrise...