Of Tolling Bell I ask the cause?
"A Soul has gone to Heaven"
I'm answered in a lonesome tone —
Is Heaven then a Prison?
That Bells should ring till all should know
A Soul had gone to Heaven
Would seem to me the more the way
A Good News should be given.
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Of Tribulation, these are They,
Denoted by the White —
The Spangled Gowns, a lesser Rank
Of Victors — designate —
All these — did conquer —
But the ones who overcame most times —
Wear nothing commoner than Snow —
No Ornament, but Palms —
Surrender — is a sort unknown...'TIS strange, while all to greatness homage pay,
So few should know the goddess they obey.
That men should think a thousand things the same,
And give contending images one name.
Not Greece, in all her temples' wide abodes,
Held a more wild democracy of Gods
Than various deities we serve,...Of whom so dear
The name to hear
Illumines with a Glow
As intimate — as fugitive
As Sunset on the snow —Of Yellow was the outer Sky
In Yellower Yellow hewn
Till Saffron in Vermilion slid
Whose seam could not be shewn.Oh Future! thou secreted peace
Or subterranean woe —
Is there no wandering route of grace
That leads away from thee —
No circuit sage of all the course
Descried by cunning Men
To balk thee of thy sacred Prey —
Advancing to thy Den —Oh give it Motion — deck it sweet
With Artery and Vein —
Upon its fastened Lips lay words —
Affiance it again
To that Pink stranger we call Dust —
Acquainted more with that
Than with this horizontal one
That will not lift its Hat —Oh Shadow on the Grass,
Art thou a Step or not?
Go make thee fair my Candidate
My nominated Heart —
Oh Shadow on the Grass
While I delay to guess
Some other thou wilt consecrate —
Oh Unelected Face —Oh what a Grace is this,
What Majesties of Peace,
That having breathed
The fine — ensuing Right
Without Diminuet Proceed!Oh, honey of an hour,
I never knew thy power,
Prohibit me
Till my minutest dower,
My unfrequented flower,
Deserving be.