The Murmur of a Bee
The Murmur of a Bee A Witchcraft yieldeth me If any ask me why ‘Twere easier to die Than tell The Red upon the Hill Taketh away my will If anybody sneer Take care
I bring an unaccustomed wine
I bring an unaccustomed wine To lips long parching Next to mine, And summon them to drink; Crackling with fever, they Essay, I turn my brimming eyes away, And come next hour to look.
Rather arid delight
Rather arid delight If Contentment accrue Make an abstemious Ecstasy Not so good as joy But Rapture’s Expense Must not be incurred With a tomorrow knocking And the Rent unpaid
Trust in the Unexpected
Trust in the Unexpected By this was William Kidd Persuaded of the Buried Gold As One had testified Through this the old Philosopher His Talismanic Stone Discerned still withholden To effort undivine ‘Twas this
'Twas just this time, last year, I died
‘Twas just this time, last year, I died. I know I heard the Corn, When I was carried by the Farms It had the Tassels on I thought how yellow it would look When
There is a morn by men unseen
There is a morn by men unseen Whose maids upon remoter green Keep their Seraphic May And all day long, with dance and game, And gambol I may never name Employ their holiday. Here
Garland for Queens, may be
Garland for Queens, may be Laurels for rare degree Of soul or sword. Ah but remembering me Ah but remembering thee Nature in chivalry Nature in charity Nature in equity This Rose ordained!
The Way I read a Letter's this
The Way I read a Letter’s this ‘Tis first I lock the Door And push it with my fingers next For transport it be sure And then I go the furthest off To counteract
Morns like these we parted
Morns like these we parted Noons like these she rose Fluttering first then firmer To her fair repose. Never did she lisp it It was not for me She was mute from transport I
I see thee better in the Dark
I see thee better in the Dark I do not need a Light The Love of Thee a Prism be Excelling Violet I see thee better for the Years That hunch themselves between The
There is a word
There is a word Which bears a sword Can pierce an armed man It hurls its barbed syllables And is mute again But where it fell The saved will tell On patriotic day, Some
An honest Tear
An honest Tear Is durabler than Bronze This Cenotaph May each that dies Reared by itself No Deputy suffice Gratitude bears When Obelisk decays
The Lady feeds Her little Bird
The Lady feeds Her little Bird At rarer intervals The little Bird would not dissent But meekly recognize The Gulf between the Hand and Her And crumbless and afar And fainting, on Her yellow
We thirst at first 'tis Nature's Act
We thirst at first ’tis Nature’s Act And later when we die A little Water supplicate Of fingers going by It intimates the finer want Whose adequate supply Is that Great Water in the
We do not play on Graves
We do not play on Graves Because there isn’t Room Besides it isn’t even it slants And People come And put a Flower on it And hang their faces so We’re fearing that their