The Days that we can spare
The Days that we can spare Are those a Function die Or Friend or Nature stranded then In our Economy Our Estimates a Scheme Our Ultimates a Sham We let go all of Time
Bloom is Result to meet a Flower
Bloom is Result to meet a Flower And casually glance Would scarcely cause one to suspect The minor Circumstance Assisting in the Bright Affair So intricately done Then offered as a Butterfly To the
The Body grows without
The Body grows without The more convenient way That if the Spirit like to hide Its Temple stands, alway, Ajar secure inviting It never did betray The Soul that asked its shelter In solemn
She laid her docile Crescent down
She laid her docile Crescent down And this confiding Stone Still states to Dates that have forgot The News that she is gone So constant to its stolid trust, The Shaft that never knew
The Fingers of the Light
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
The Road to Paradise is plain
The Road to Paradise is plain, And holds scarce one. Not that it is not firm But we presume A Dimpled Road Is more preferred. The Belles of Paradise are few Not me nor
If I should cease to bring a Rose
If I should cease to bring a Rose Upon a festal day, ‘Twill be because beyond the Rose I have been called away If I should cease to take the names My buds commemorate
Its Hour with itself
Its Hour with itself The Spirit never shows. What Terror would enthrall the Street Could Countenance disclose The Subterranean Freight The Cellars of the Soul Thank God the loudest Place he made Is license
If I could bribe them by a Rose
If I could bribe them by a Rose I’d bring them every flower that grows From Amherst to Cashmere! I would not stop for night, or storm Or frost, or death, or anyone My
The One who could repeat the Summer day
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
If all the griefs I am to have
If all the griefs I am to have Would only come today, I am so happy I believe They’d laugh and run away. If all the joys I am to have Would only come
Savior! I've no one else to tell
Savior! I’ve no one else to tell And so I trouble thee. I am the one forgot thee so Dost thou remember me? Nor, for myself, I came so far That were the little
What tenements of clover
What tenements of clover Are fitting for the bee, What edifices azure For butterflies and me What residences nimble Arise and evanesce Without a rhythmic rumor Or an assaulting guess.
Two swimmers wrestled on the spar
Two swimmers wrestled on the spar Until the morning sun When One turned smiling to the land Oh God! the Other One! The stray ships passing Spied a face Upon the waters borne With
A Solemn thing within the Soul
A Solemn thing within the Soul To feel itself get ripe And golden hang while farther up The Maker’s Ladders stop And in the Orchard far below You hear a Being drop A Wonderful