• From all the Jails the Boys and Girls

    Ecstatically leap —

    Beloved only Afternoon

    That Prison doesn't keep


    They storm the Earth and stun the Air,

    A Mob of solid Bliss —

    Alas — that Frowns should lie in wait

    For such a Foe as this —

  • From beneath a mysterious and ice-cold half-mask

    Your voice sounded to me as flattering as a dream,

    Your charming eyes were shining at me,

    And your cunning mouth was smiling.


    Through the wispy haze I noticed unconsciously

    The paleness of your virgin cheeks and neck,

    Lucky creature! I saw a...

  • From Blank to Blank —

    A Threadless Way

    I pushed Mechanic feet —

    To stop — or perish — or advance —

    Alike indifferent —


    If end I gained

    It ends beyond

    Indefinite disclosed —

    I shut my eyes — and groped as well

    'Twas lighter — to be Blind —

  • From Cocoon forth a Butterfly

    As Lady from her Door

    Emerged — a Summer Afternoon —

    Repairing Everywhere —


    Without Design — that I could trace

    Except to stray abroad

    On Miscellaneous Enterprise

    The Clovers — understood —


    Her pretty Parasol be seen

    ...

  •         Come on the sea, beloved,

                Fearless and free;

            Leave friends and wealth behind;

                Come, come with me.

            My bark on the water shines

                A fairy thing; --

            See her pennon, mast, and keel!

            She is but a little shell,
    ...

  • From his slim Palace in the Dust

    He relegates the Realm,

    More loyal for the exody

    That has befallen him.

  • My cocoon tightens, colors tease,

    I'm feeling for the air ;

    A dim capacity for wings

    Degrades the dress I wear.


    A power of butterfly must be

    The aptitude to fly,

    Meadows of majesty concedes

    And easy sweeps...

  • Scene: On Monaro.

    Dramatis Personae

    Shock-headed blackfellow,

    Boy (on a pony).


    Snowflakes are falling

    Gentle and slow,

    Youngster says, "Frying Pan

    What makes it snow?"


    Frying Pan, confident,

    Makes the reply —

    "Shake 'im big flour bag
    ...

  • WHOEVER comes to shroud me, do not harm,
    Nor question much,

    That subtle wreath of hair, which crowns my arm;

    The mystery, the sign, you must not touch;
    For 'tis my outward soul,

    Viceroy to that, which then to heaven being...

  • Funny — to be a Century —

    And see the People — going by —

    I — should die of the Oddity —

    But then — I'm not so staid — as He —


    He keeps His Secrets safely — very —

    Were He to tell — extremely sorry

    This Bashful Globe of Ours would be —

    So dainty of Publicity —