The Night was wide, and furnished scant
With but a single Star —
That often as a Cloud it met —
Blew out itself — for fear —
The Wind pursued the little Bush —
And drove away the Leaves
November left — then clambered up
And fretted in the Eaves —
No Squirrel went...
The Notice that is called the Spring
Is but a month from here —
Put up my Heart thy Hoary work
And take a Rosy Chair.
Not any House the Flowers keep —
The Birds enamor Care —
Our salary the longest Day
Is nothing but a Bier.
The One who could repeat the Summer day —
Were greater than itself — though He
Minutest of Mankind should be —
And He — could reproduce the Sun —
At period of going down —
The Lingering — and the Stain — I mean —
When Orient have been outgrown —
And Occident — become Unknown —...
The ones that disappeared are back
The Phoebe and the Crow
Precisely as in March is heard
The curtness of the Jay —
Be this an Autumn or a Spring
My wisdom loses way
One side of me the nuts are ripe
The other side is May.
The only Ghost I ever saw
Was dressed in Mechlin — so —
He wore no sandal on his foot —
And stepped like flakes of snow —
His Gait — was soundless, like the Bird —
But rapid — like the Roe —
His fashions, quaint, Mosaic —
Or haply, Mistletoe —
His conversation — seldom...
The Only News I know
Is Bulletins all Day
From Immortality.
The Only Shows I see —
Tomorrow and Today —
Perchance Eternity —
The Only One I meet
Is God — The Only Street —
Existence — This traversed
If Other News there be —
Or Admirable...
The Opening and the Close
Of Being, are alike
Or differ, if they do,
As Bloom upon a Stalk.
That from an equal Seed
Unto an equal Bud
Go parallel, perfected
In that they have decayed.
The Outer — from the Inner
Derives its Magnitude —
'Tis Duke, or Dwarf, according
As is the Central Mood —
The fine — unvarying Axis
That regulates the Wheel —
Though Spokes — spin — more conspicuous
And fling a dust — the while.
The Inner — paints the Outer —
...
My river runs to thee :
Blue sea, wilt welcome me ?
My river waits reply.
Oh sea, look graciously !
I'll fetch thee brooks
From spotted nooks, —
Say, sea, take me !
The overtakelessness of those
Who have accomplished Death
Majestic is to me beyond
The majesties of Earth.
The soul her "Not at Home"
Inscribes upon the flesh —
And takes her fair aerial gait
Beyond the hope of touch.