• * * *


    Sir Joshua Praises Michael Angelo

    Tis Christian Mildness when Knaves Praise a Foe

    But Twould be Madness all the World would say

    Should Michael Angelo praise Sir Joshuat

    Christ usd the Pharisees in a rougher way 5

  • Size circumscribes — it has no room

    For petty furniture —

    The Giant tolerates no Gnat

    For Ease of Gianture —


    Repudiates it, all the more —

    Because intrinsic size

    Ignores the possibility

    Of Calumnies — or Flies.

  • A slash of Blue —

    A sweep of Gray —

    Some scarlet patches on the way,

    Compose an Evening Sky —

    A little purple — slipped between —

    Some Ruby Trousers hurried on —

    A Wave of Gold —

    A Bank of Day —

    This just makes out the Morning Sky.

  • SLEEP, dearest, long and sweet,

          With smile upon thy brow,

    Thy restless, tottering feet,

          Are surely weary now,

    Trotting about all day

          Upon the nursery-floor,

    Or happier still to play

    Among the wild flowers gay

          Beside thy father's door.

    ...

  • A Sloop of Amber slips away

    Upon an Ether Sea,

    And wrecks in Peace a Purple Tar,

    The Son of Ecstasy —

  • Snow beneath whose chilly softness

    Some that never lay

    Make their first Repose this Winter

    I admonish Thee


    Blanket Wealthier the Neighbor

    We so new bestow

    Than thine acclimated Creature

    Wilt Thou, Austere Snow?

  • So bashful when I spied her,

    So pretty, so ashamed !

    So hidden in her leaflets,

    Lest anybody find ;


    So breathless till I passed her,

    So helpless when I turned

    And bore her, struggling, blushing,

    Her simple...

  • So from the mould

    Scarlet and Gold

    Many a Bulb will rise —

    Hidden away, cunningly, From sagacious eyes.


    So from Cocoon

    Many a Worm

    Leap so Highland gay,

    Peasants like me,

    Peasants like Thee

    Gaze perplexedly!

  • So give me back to Death —

    The Death I never feared

    Except that it deprived of thee —

    And now, by Life deprived,

    In my own Grave I breathe

    And estimate its size —

    Its size is all that Hell can guess —

    And all that Heaven was —