• On the World you colored

    Morning painted rose —

    Idle his Vermillion

    Aimless crept the Glows

    Over Realms of Orchards

    I the Day before

    Conquered with the Robin —

    Misery - how fair

    Till your wrinkled Finger

    Shoved the sun away

    Midnight's awful Pattern
    ...

  • Spring comes on the World —

    I sight the Aprils —

    Hueless to me until thou come

    As, till the Bee

    Blossoms stand negative,

    Touched to Conditions

    By a Hum.

  • The going from a world we know

    To one a wonder still

    Is like the child's adversity

    Whose vista is a hill,

    Behind the hill is sorcery

    And everything unknown,

    But will the secret compensate

    For climbing it alone?

  • The World — stands — solemner — to me —

    Since I was wed — to Him —

    A modesty befits the soul

    That bears another's — name —

    A doubt — if it be fair — indeed —

    To wear that perfect — pearl —

    The Man — upon the Woman — binds —

    To clasp her soul — for all —

    A prayer, that it more...

  • This is my letter to the World

    That never wrote to Me —

    The simple News that Nature told —

    With tender Majesty


    Her Message is committed

    To Hands I cannot see —

    For love of Her — Sweet — countrymen —

    Judge tenderly — of Me

  • To this World she returned.

    But with a tinge of that —

    A Compound manner,

    As a Sod

    Espoused a Violet,

    That chiefer to the Skies

    Than to himself, allied,

    Dwelt hesitating, half of Dust,

    And half of Day, the Bride.