Who abdicated Ambush And went the way of Dusk, And now against his subtle Name There stands an Asterisk As confident of him as we Impregnable we are The whole of Immortality Secreted in

I shall not murmur if at last The ones I loved below Permission have to understand For what I shunned them so Divulging it would rest my Heart But it would ravage theirs Why,

What Inn is this Where for the night Peculiar Traveller comes? Who is the Landlord? Where the maids? Behold, what curious rooms! No ruddy fires on the hearth No brimming Tankards flow Necromancer! Landlord!

Endow the Living with the Tears You squander on the Dead, And They were Men and Women now, Around Your Fireside Instead of Passive Creatures, Denied the Cherishing Till They the Cherishing deny With

The Bee is not afraid of me. I know the Butterfly. The pretty people in the Woods Receive me cordially The Brooks laugh louder when I come The Breezes madder play; Wherefore mine eye

The Butterfly’s Assumption Gown In Chrysoprase Apartments hung This afternoon put on How condescending to descend And be of Buttercups the friend In a New England Town

Death is potential to that Man Who dies and to his friend Beyond that unconspicuous To Anyone but God Of these Two God remembers The longest for the friend Is integral and therefore Itself

The Crickets sang And set the Sun And Workmen finished one by one Their Seam the Day upon. The low Grass loaded with the Dew The Twilight stood, as Strangers do With Hat in

The Clover’s simple Fame Remembered of the Cow Is better than enameled Realms Of notability. Renown perceives itself And that degrades the Flower The Daisy that has looked behind Has compromised its power

Distrustful of the Gentian And just to turn away, The fluttering of her fringes Child my perfidy Weary for my I will singing go I shall not feel the sleet then I shall not

There comes an hour when begging stops, When the long interceding lips Perceive their prayer is vain. “Thou shalt not” is a kinder sword Than from a disappointing God “Disciple, call again.”

The Savior must have been A docile Gentleman To come so far so cold a Day For little Fellowmen The Road to Bethlehem Since He and I were Boys Was leveled, but for that

The Bird her punctual music brings And lays it in its place Its place is in the Human Heart And in the Heavenly Grace What respite from her thrilling toil Did Beauty ever take

Summer we all have seen A few of us believed A few the more aspiring Unquestionably loved But Summer does not care She goes her spacious way As eligible as the moon To our

We do not know the time we lose The awful moment is And takes its fundamental place Among the certainties A firm appearance still inflates The card the chance the friend The spectre of

Conferring with myself My stranger disappeared Though first upon a berry fat Miraculously fared How paltry looked my cares My practise how absurd Superfluous my whole career Beside this travelling Bird

You’ll know Her by Her Foot The smallest Gamboge Hand With Fingers where the Toes should be Would more affront the Sand Than this Quaint Creature’s Boot Adjusted by a Stern Without a Button

I watcher her face to see which way She took the awful news Whether she died before she heard Or in protracted bruise Remained a few slow years with us Each heavier than the

The inundation of the Spring Enlarges every soul It sweeps the tenement away But leaves the Water whole In which the soul at first estranged Seeks faintly for its shore But acclimated pines no

It would never be Common more I said Difference had begun Many a bitterness had been But that old sort was done Or if it sometime showed as ’twill Upon the Downiest Morn Such

Bring me the sunset in a cup, Reckon the morning’s flagons up And say how many Dew, Tell me how far the morning leaps Tell me what time the weaver sleeps Who spun the

A feather from the Whippoorwill That everlasting sings! Whose galleries are Sunrise Whose Opera the Springs Whose Emerald Nest the Ages spin Of mellow murmuring thread Whose Beryl Egg, what Schoolboys hunt In “Recess”

We like March. His Shoes are Purple He is new and high Makes he Mud for Dog and Peddler. Makes he Forests dry. Knows the Adder Tongue his coming And presents her Spot Stands

The Dandelion’s pallid tube Astonishes the Grass, And Winter instantly becomes An infinite Alas The tube uplifts a signal Bud And then a shouting Flower, The Proclamation of the Suns That sepulture is o’er.

Patience has a quiet Outer Patience Look within Is an Insect’s futile forces Infinites between ‘Scaping one against the other Fruitlesser to fling Patience is the Smile’s exertion Through the quivering

We pray to Heaven We prate of Heaven Relate when Neighbors die At what o’clock to heaven they fled Who saw them Wherefore fly? Is Heaven a Place a Sky a Tree? Location’s narrow

Trudging to Eden, looking backward, I met Somebody’s little Boy Asked him his name He lisped me “Trotwood” Lady, did He belong to thee? Would it comfort to know I met him And that

‘Twas warm at first like Us Until there crept upon A Chill like frost upon a Glass Till all the scene be gone. The Forehead copied Stone The Fingers grew too cold To ache

The Moon was but a Chin of Gold A Night or two ago And now she turns Her perfect Face Upon the World below Her Forehead is of Amplest Blonde Her Cheek a Beryl

The Products of my Farm are these Sufficient for my Own And here and there a Benefit Unto a Neighbor’s Bin. With Us, ’tis Harvest all the Year For when the Frosts begin We

I never told the buried gold Upon the hill that lies I saw the sun his plunder done Crouch low to guard his prize. He stood as near As stood you here A pace

The Loneliness One dare not sound And would as soon surmise As in its Grave go plumbing To ascertain the size The Loneliness whose worst alarm Is lest itself should see And perish from

I envy Seas, whereon He rides I envy Spokes of Wheels Of Chariots, that Him convey I envy Crooked Hills That gaze upon His journey How easy All can see What is forbidden utterly

From Us She wandered now a Year, Her tarrying, unknown, If Wilderness prevent her feet Or that Ethereal Zone No eye hath seen and lived We ignorant must be We only know what time

‘Tis Opposites entice Deformed Men ponder Grace Bright fires the Blanketless The Lost Day’s face The Blind esteem it be Enough Estate to see The Captive strangles new For deeming Beggars play To lack

To the bright east she flies, Brothers of Paradise Remit her home, Without a change of wings, Or Love’s convenient things, Enticed to come. Fashioning what she is, Fathoming what she was, We deem

I saw no Way The Heavens were stitched I felt the Columns close The Earth reversed her Hemispheres I touched the Universe And back it slid and I alone A Speck upon a Ball

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

“Was not” was all the Statement. The Unpretension stuns Perhaps the Comprehension They wore no Lexicons But lest our Speculation In inanition die Because “God took him” mention That was Philology

A Bee his burnished Carriage Drove boldly to a Rose Combinedly alighting Himself his Carriage was The Rose received his visit With frank tranquillity Withholding not a Crescent To his Cupidity Their Moment consummated

Dying! Dying in the night! Won’t somebody bring the light So I can see which way to go Into the everlasting snow? And “Jesus”! Where is Jesus gone? They said that Jesus always came

After a hundred years Nobody knows the Place Agony that enacted there Motionless as Peace Weeds triumphant ranged Strangers strolled and spelled At the lone Orthography Of the Elder Dead Winds of Summer Fields

The Beggar Lad dies early It’s Somewhat in the Cold And Somewhat in the Trudging feet And haply, in the World The Cruel smiling bowing World That took its Cambric Way Nor heard the

As Sleigh Bells seem in summer Or Bees, at Christmas show So fairy so fictitious The individuals do Repealed from observation A Party that we knew More distant in an instant Than Dawn in

Through lane it lay through bramble Through clearing and through wood Banditti often passed us Upon the lonely road. The wolf came peering curious The owl looked puzzled down The serpent’s satin figure Glid

Twice had Summer her fair Verdure Proffered to the Plain Twice a Winter’s silver Fracture On the Rivers been Two full Autumns for the Squirrel Bounteous prepared Nature, Had’st thou not a Berry For

From Blank to Blank A Threadless Way I pushed Mechanic feet To stop or perish or advance Alike indifferent If end I gained It ends beyond Indefinite disclosed I shut my eyes and groped

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 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

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