Satisfaction is the Agent
Satisfaction is the Agent Of Satiety Want a quiet Commissary For Infinity. To possess, is past the instant We achieve the Joy Immortality contented Were Anomaly.
We Bee and I live by the quaffing
We Bee and I live by the quaffing ‘Tisn’t all Hock with us Life has its Ale But it’s many a lay of the Dim Burgundy We chant for cheer when the Wines fail
I felt a Cleaving in my Mind
I felt a Cleaving in my Mind As if my Brain had split I tried to match it Seam by Seam But could not make it fit. The thought behind, I strove to join
Grief is a Mouse
Grief is a Mouse And chooses Wainscot in the Breast For His Shy House And baffles quest Grief is a Thief quick startled Pricks His Ear report to hear Of that Vast Dark That
We never know how high we are
We never know how high we are Till we are asked to rise And then if we are true to plan Our statures touch the skies The Heroism we recite Would be a normal
Impossibility, like Wine
Impossibility, like Wine Exhilarates the Man Who tastes it; Possibility Is flavorless Combine A Chance’s faintest Tincture And in the former Dram Enchantment makes ingredient As certainly as Doom
Struck, was I, not yet by Lightning
Struck, was I, not yet by Lightning Lightning lets away Power to perceive His Process With Vitality. Maimed was I yet not by Venture Stone of stolid Boy Nor a Sportsman’s Peradventure Who mine
The Gentian has a parched Corolla
The Gentian has a parched Corolla Like azure dried ‘Tis Nature’s buoyant juices Beatified Without a vaunt or sheen As casual as Rain And as benign When most is part it comes Nor isolate
"I want" it pleaded All its life
“I want” it pleaded All its life I want was chief it said When Skill entreated it the last And when so newly dead I could not deem it late to hear That single
There is strength in proving that it can be borne
There is strength in proving that it can be borne Although it tear What are the sinews of such cordage for Except to bear The ship might be of satin had it not to
The Spirit is the Conscious Ear
The Spirit is the Conscious Ear. We actually Hear When We inspect that’s audible That is admitted Here For other Services as Sound There hangs a smaller Ear Outside the Castle that Contain The
I am alive I guess
I am alive I guess The Branches on my Hand Are full of Morning Glory And at my finger’s end The Carmine tingles warm And if I hold a Glass Across my Mouth it
A Counterfeit a Plated Person
A Counterfeit a Plated Person I would not be Whatever strata of Iniquity My Nature underlie Truth is good Health and Safety, and the Sky. How meagre, what an Exile is a Lie, And
The Thrill came slowly like a Boom for
The Thrill came slowly like a Boom for Centuries delayed Its fitness growing like the Flood In sumptuous solitude The desolations only missed While Rapture changed its Dress And stood amazed before the Change
"Secrets" is a daily word
“Secrets” is a daily word Yet does not exist Muffled it remits surmise Murmured it has ceased Dungeoned in the Human Breast Doubtless secrets lie But that Grate inviolate Goes nor comes away Nothing