Great Streets of silence led away
Great Streets of silence led away To Neighborhoods of Pause Here was no Notice no Dissent No Universe no laws By Clocks, ’twas Morning, and for Night The Bells at Distance called But Epoch
How happy I was if I could forget
How happy I was if I could forget To remember how sad I am Would be an easy adversity But the recollecting of Bloom Keeps making November difficult Till I who was almost bold
There is a Zone whose even Years
There is a Zone whose even Years No Solstice interrupt Whose Sun constructs perpetual Noon Whose perfect Seasons wait Whose Summer set in Summer, till The Centuries of June And Centuries of August cease
Where Thou art that is Home
Where Thou art that is Home Cashmere or Calvary the same Degree or Shame I scarce esteem Location’s Name So I may Come What Thou dost is Delight Bondage as Play be sweet Imprisonment
As far from pity, as complaint
As far from pity, as complaint As cool to speech as stone As numb to Revelation As if my Trade were Bone As far from time as History As near yourself Today As Children,
I felt my life with both my hands
I felt my life with both my hands To see if it was there I held my spirit to the Glass, To prove it possibler I turned my Being round and round And paused
It did not surprise me
It did not surprise me So I said or thought She will stir her pinions And the nest forgot, Traverse broader forests Build in gayer boughs, Breathe in Ear more modern God’s old fashioned
I've known a Heaven, like a Tent
I’ve known a Heaven, like a Tent To wrap its shining Yards Pluck up its stakes, and disappear Without the sound of Boards Or Rip of Nail Or Carpenter But just the miles of
Sweet, to have had them lost
Sweet, to have had them lost For news that they be saved The nearer they departed Us The nearer they, restored, Shall stand to Our Right Hand Most precious and the Dead Next precious
Some such Butterfly be seen
Some such Butterfly be seen On Brazilian Pampas Just at noon no later Sweet Then the License closes Some such Spice express and pass Subject to Your Plucking As the Stars You knew last
On my volcano grows the Grass
On my volcano grows the Grass A meditative spot An acre for a Bird to choose Would be the General thought How red the Fire rocks below How insecure the sod Did I disclose
Nature rarer uses Yellow
Nature rarer uses Yellow Than another Hue. Saves she all of that for Sunsets Prodigal of Blue Spending Scarlet, like a Woman Yellow she affords Only scantly and selectly Like a Lover’s Words.
Said Death to Passion
Said Death to Passion “Give of thine an Acre unto me.” Said Passion, through contracting Breaths “A Thousand Times Thee Nay.” Bore Death from Passion All His East He sovereign as the Sun Resituated
That sacred Closet when you sweep
That sacred Closet when you sweep Entitled “Memory” Select a reverential Broom And do it silently. ‘Twill be a Labor of surprise Besides Identity Of other Interlocutors A probability August the Dust of that
Of Being is a Bird
Of Being is a Bird The likest to the Down An Easy Breeze do put afloat The General Heavens upon It soars and shifts and whirls And measures with the Clouds In easy even