As by the dead we love to sit
As by the dead we love to sit, Become so wondrous dear As for the lost we grapple Tho’ all the rest are here In broken mathematics We estimate our prize Vast in its
Good Morning Midnight
Good Morning Midnight I’m coming Home Day got tired of Me How could I of Him? Sunshine was a sweet place I liked to stay But Morn didn’t want me now So Goodnight Day!
I met a King this afternoon!
I met a King this afternoon! He had not on a Crown indeed, A little Palmleaf Hat was all, And he was barefoot, I’m afraid! But sure I am he Ermine wore Beneath his
The Color of a Queen, is this
The Color of a Queen, is this The Color of a Sun At setting this and Amber Beryl and this, at Noon And when at night Auroran widths Fling suddenly on men ‘Tis this
One and One are One
One and One are One Two be finished using Well enough for Schools But for Minor Choosing Life just or Death Or the Everlasting More would be too vast For the Soul’s Comprising
The Flower must not blame the Bee
The Flower must not blame the Bee That seeketh his felicity Too often at her door But teach the Footman from Vevay Mistress is “not at home” to say To people any more!
Two Travellers perishing in Snow
Two Travellers perishing in Snow The Forests as they froze Together heard them strengthening Each other with the words That Heaven if Heaven must contain What Either left behind And then the cheer too
I had a guinea golden
I had a guinea golden I lost it in the sand And tho’ the sum was simple And pounds were in the land Still, had it such a value Unto my frugal eye That
He outstripped Time with but a Bout
He outstripped Time with but a Bout, He outstripped Stars and Sun And then, unjaded, challenged God In presence of the Throne. And He and He in mighty List Unto this present, run, The
The most pathetic thing I do
The most pathetic thing I do Is play I hear from you I make believe until my Heart Almost believes it too But when I break it with the news You knew it was
Remorse is Memory awake
Remorse is Memory awake Her Parties all astir A Presence of Departed Acts At window and at Door Its Past set down before the Soul And lighted with a Match Perusal to facilitate And
Without this there is nought
Without this there is nought All other Riches be As is the Twitter of a Bird Heard opposite the Sea I could not care to gain A lesser than the Whole For did not
None can experience sting
None can experience sting Who Bounty have not known The fact of Famine could not be Except for Fact of Corn Want is a meagre Art Acquired by Reverse The Poverty that was not
The murmuring of Bees, has ceased
The murmuring of Bees, has ceased But murmuring of some Posterior, prophetic, Has simultaneous come. The lower metres of the Year When Nature’s laugh is done The Revelations of the Book Whose Genesis was
Two butterflies went out at Noon
Two butterflies went out at Noon And waltzed upon a Farm Then stepped straight through the Firmament And rested, on a Beam And then together bore away Upon a shining Sea Though never yet,