If she had been the Mistletoe
If she had been the Mistletoe And I had been the Rose How gay upon your table My velvet life to close Since I am of the Druid, And she is of the dew
His Feet are shod with Gauze
His Feet are shod with Gauze His Helmet, is of Gold, His Breast, a Single Onyx With Chrysophrase, inlaid. His Labor is a Chant His Idleness a Tune Oh, for a Bee’s experience Of
'Tis whiter than an Indian Pipe
‘Tis whiter than an Indian Pipe ‘Tis dimmer than a Lace No stature has it, like a Fog When you approach the place Nor any voice imply it here Or intimate it there A
The Frost was never seen
The Frost was never seen If met, too rapid passed, Or in too unsubstantial Team The Flowers notice first A Stranger hovering round A Symptom of alarm In Villages remotely set But search effaces
A single Clover Plank
A single Clover Plank Was all that saved a Bee A Bee I personally knew From sinking in the sky ‘Twixt Firmament above And Firmament below The Billows of Circumference Were sweeping him away
Had I known that the first was the last
Had I known that the first was the last I should have kept it longer. Had I known that the last was the first I should have drunk it stronger. Cup, it was your
Ourselves were wed one summer dear
Ourselves were wed one summer dear Your Vision was in June And when Your little Lifetime failed, I wearied too of mine And overtaken in the Dark Where You had put me down By
Snow flakes
Snow flakes. I counted till they danced so Their slippers leaped the town, And then I took a pencil To note the rebels down. And then they grew so jolly I did resign the
Light is sufficient to itself
Light is sufficient to itself If Others want to see It can be had on Window Panes Some Hours in the Day. But not for Compensation It holds as large a Glow To Squirrel
Unable are the Loved to die
Unable are the Loved to die For Love is Immortality, Nay, it is Deity Unable they that love to die For Love reforms Vitality Into Divinity.
His Mind like Fabrics of the East
His Mind like Fabrics of the East Displayed to the despair Of everyone but here and there An humble Purchaser For though his price was not of Gold More arduous there is That one
Within my Garden, rides a Bird
Within my Garden, rides a Bird Upon a single Wheel Whose spokes a dizzy Music make As ’twere a travelling Mill He never stops, but slackens Above the Ripest Rose Partakes without alighting And
I've seen a Dying Eye
I’ve seen a Dying Eye Run round and round a Room In search of Something as it seemed Then Cloudier become And then obscure with Fog And then be soldered down Without disclosing what
Doom is the House without the Door
Doom is the House without the Door ‘Tis entered from the Sun And then the Ladder’s thrown away, Because Escape is done ‘Tis varied by the Dream Of what they do outside Where Squirrels
I read my sentence steadily
I read my sentence steadily Reviewed it with my eyes, To see that I made no mistake In its extremest clause The Date, and manner, of the shame And then the Pious Form That