The Fingers of the Light
Tapped soft upon the Town
With "I am great and cannot wait
So therefore let me in."
"You're soon," the Town replied,
"My Faces are asleep —
But swear, and I will let you by,
You will not wake them up."
The easy Guest complied
But...
The first Day's Night had come —
And grateful that a thing
So terrible — had been endured —
I told my Soul to sing —
She said her Strings were snapt —
Her Bow — to Atoms blown —
And so to mend her — gave me work
Until another Morn —
And then — a Day as huge
...
"North and South too many an hour
I've by the skipper held the wheel;
Seen too many a hissing shower
O'er my old sou'-wester reel."
The first We knew of Him was Death —
The second — was — Renown —
Except the first had justified
The second had not been.
The Flower must not blame the Bee —
That seeketh his felicity
Too often at her door —
But teach the Footman from Vevay —
Mistress is "not at home" — to say —
To people — any more!
The Frost of Death was on the Pane —
"Secure your Flower" said he.
Like Sailors fighting with a Leak
We fought Mortality.
Our passive Flower we held to Sea —
To Mountain — To the Sun —
Yet even on his Scarlet shelf
To crawl the Frost begun —
We pried him back
...
That short, potential stir
That each can make but once,
That bustle so illustrious
'T is almost consequence,
Is the éclat of death.
Oh, thou unknown renown
That not a beggar would accept,
Had he the...
The Future — never spoke —
Nor will He — like the Dumb —
Reveal by sign — a syllable
Of His Profound To Come —
But when the News be ripe —
Presents it — in the Act —
Forestalling Preparation —
Escape — or Substitute —
Indifference to Him —
The Dower — as...
The Gentian weaves her fringes —
The Maple's loom is red —
My departing blossoms
Obviate parade.
A brief, but patient illness —
An hour to prepare,
And one below this morning
Is where the angels are —
It was a short procession,
The Bobolink was there —
...
The gleam of an heroic Act
Such strange illumination
The Possible's slow fuse is lit
By the Imagination.