The Frost of Death was on the Pane
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
The Mushroom is the Elf of Plants
The Mushroom is the Elf of Plants At Evening, it is not At Morning, in a Truffled Hut It stop upon a Spot As if it tarried always And yet its whole Career Is
The Child's faith is new
The Child’s faith is new Whole like His Principle Wide like the Sunrise On fresh Eyes Never had a Doubt Laughs at a Scruple Believes all sham But Paradise Credits the World Deems His
I tie my Hat I crease my Shawl
I tie my Hat I crease my Shawl Life’s little duties do precisely As the very least Were infinite to me I put new Blossoms in the Glass And throw the old away I
No Bobolink reverse His Singing
No Bobolink reverse His Singing When the only Tree Ever He minded occupying By the Farmer be Clove to the Root His Spacious Future Best Horizon gone Whose Music be His Only Anodyne Brave
The Opening and the Close
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
My friend must be a Bird
My friend must be a Bird Because it flies! Mortal, my friend must be, Because it dies! Barbs has it, like a Bee! Ah, curious friend! Thou puzzlest me!
A solemn thing it was I said
A solemn thing it was I said A woman white to be And wear if God should count me fit Her blameless mystery A hallowed thing to drop a life Into the purple well
I lived on Dread
I lived on Dread To Those who know The Stimulus there is In Danger Other impetus Is numb and Vitalless As ’twere a Spur upon the Soul A Fear will urge it where To
An altered look about the hills
An altered look about the hills A Tyrian light the village fills A wider sunrise in the morn A deeper twilight on the lawn A print of a vermillion foot A purple finger on
Inconceivably solemn!
Inconceivably solemn! Things go gay Pierce by the very Press Of Imagery Their far Parades order on the eye With a mute Pomp A pleading Pageantry Flags, are a brave sight But no true
I prayed, at first, a little Girl
I prayed, at first, a little Girl, Because they told me to But stopped, when qualified to guess How prayer would feel to me If I believed God looked around, Each time my Childish
The Province of the Saved
The Province of the Saved Should be the Art To save Through Skill obtained in Themselves The Science of the Grave No Man can understand But He that hath endured The Dissolution in Himself
Truth is as old as God
Truth is as old as God His Twin identity And will endure as long as He A Co-Eternity And perish on the Day Himself is borne away From Mansion of the Universe A lifeless
The Fact that Earth is Heaven
The Fact that Earth is Heaven Whether Heaven is Heaven or not If not an Affidavit Of that specific Spot Not only must confirm us That it is not for us But that it