"Morning" -- means "Milking" -- to the Farmer -- Dawn -- to the Teneriffe --
Dice -- to the Maid --
Morning means just Risk -- to the Lover -- Just revelation -- to the Beloved --
Epicures -- date a Breakfast -- by it --
Brides -- an Apocalypse --
Worlds -- a Flood --
Faint-going Lives -- Their Lapse from Sighing -- Faith -- The Experiment of Our Lord
I reason, Earth is short -And Anguish -- absolute -- And many hurt,
But, what of that?
I reason, we could die -The best Vitality
Cannot excel Decay, But, what of that?
I reason, that in Heaven -- Somehow, it will be even -- Some new Equation, given -- But, what of that?
302Like Some Old fashioned Miracle When Summertime is done -- Seems Summer's Recollection And the Affairs of June
As infinite Tradition
As Cinderella's Bays --
Or Little John -- of Lincoln Green -- Or Blue Beard's Galleries --
Her Bees have a fictitious Hum -- Her Blossoms, like a Dream -- Elate us -- till we almost weep -- So plausible -- they seem --
Her Memories like Strains -- Review -- When Orchestra is dumb --
The Violin in Baize replaced --
And Ear -- and Heaven -- numb --
The Soul selects her own Society -- Then -- shuts the Door --
To her divine Majority --
Present no more --
Unmoved -- she notes the Chariots -- pausing -- At her low Gate --
Unmoved -- an Emperor be kneeling
Upon her Mat --
I've known her -- from an ample nation -- Choose One --
Then -- close the Valves of her attention -- Like Stone -
The Day came slow -- till Five o'clock -- Then sprang before the Hills
Like Hindered Rubies -- or the Light A Sudden Musket -- spills --
The Purple could not keep the East -- The Sunrise shook abroad
Like Breadths of Topaz -- packed a Night -- The Lady just unrolled -
The Happy Winds -- their Timbrels took -- The Birds -- in docile Rows
Arranged themselves around their Prince The Wind -- is Prince of Those --
The Orchard sparkled like a Jew -How mighty 'twas -- to be
A Guest in this stupendous place -The Parlor -- of the Day --
The difference between Despair And Fear -- is like the One Between the instant of a Wreck And when the Wreck has been --
The Mind is smooth -- no Motion -- Contented as the Eye
Upon the Forehead of a Bust -- That knows -- it cannot see --
The Soul's Superior instants Occur to Her -- alone --
When friend -- and Earth's occasion Have infinite withdrawn --
Or She -- Herself -- ascended To too remote a Height
For lower Recognition
Than Her Omnipotent --
This Mortal Abolition Is seldom -- but as fair As Apparition -- subject To Autocratic Air --
Eternity's disclosure
To favorites -- a few -- Of the Colossal substance Of Immortality
The One who could repeat the Summer day -- Were greater than itself -- though He Minutest of Mankind should be --
And He -- could reproduce the Sun -- At period of going down --
The Lingering -- and the Stain -- I mean --
When Orient have been outgrown And Occident -- become Unknown -- His Name -- remain --
308I send Two Sunsets --
Day and I -- in competition ran -- I finished Two -- and several Stars -- While He -- was making One --
His own was ampler -- but as I Was saying to a friend -
Mine -- is the more convenient To Carry in the Hand --
309 For largest Woman's Hearth I knew -- 'Tis little I can do --
And yet the largest Woman's Heart Could hold an Arrow -- too --
And so, instructed by my own, I tenderer, turn Me to.
Give little Anguish --
Lives will fret --
Give Avalanches --
And they'll slant --
Straighten -- look cautious for their Breath -- But make no syllable -- like Death -Who only shows the Marble Disc --
Sublimer sort -- than Speech --
It sifts from Leaden Sieves -- It powders all the Wood. It fills with Alabaster Wool The Wrinkles of the Road --
It makes an Even Face
Of Mountain, and of Plain -- Unbroken Forehead from the East Unto the East again --
It reaches to the Fence -It wraps it Rail by Rail Till it is lost in Fleeces -It deals Celestial Vail
To Stump, and Stack -- and Stem -- A Summer's empty Room --
Acres of Joints, where Harvests were, Recordless, but for them--
It Ruffles Wrists of Posts
As Ankles of a Queen --
Then stills its Artisans -- like Ghosts -- Denying they have been --
Her -- "last Poems" --
Poets -- ended --
Silver -- perished -- with her Tongue -- Not on Record -- bubbled other,
Flute -- or Woman --
So divine --
Not unto its Summer -- Morning
Robin -- uttered Half the Tune --
Gushed too free for the Adoring -- From the Anglo-Florentine --
Late -- the Praise --
'Tis dull -- conferring
On the Head too High to Crown -- Diadem -- or Ducal Showing --
Be its Grave -- sufficient sign --
Nought -- that We -- No Poet's Kinsman -- Suffocate -- with easy woe --
What, and if, Ourself a Bridegroom -- Put Her down -- in Italy?
I should have been too glad, I see -Too lifted -- for the scant degree
Of Life's penurious Round --
My little Circuit would have shamed This new Circumference -- have blamed -- The homelier time behind.
I should have been too saved -- I see -- Too rescued -- Fear too dim to me That I could spell the Prayer
I knew so perfect -- yesterday -- That Scalding One -- Sabachthani -Recited fluent -- here --
Earth would have been too much -- I see -- And Heaven -- not enough for me -- I should have had the Joy
Without the Fear -- to justify --
The Palm -- without the Calvary --
So Savior -- Crucify --
Defeat -- whets Victory -- they say -- The Reefs -- in old Gethsemane -- Endear the Coast -- beyond!
'Tis Beggars -- Banquets -- can define -- 'Tis Parching -- vitalizes Wine --
"Faith" bleats -- to understand!
Nature -- sometimes sears a Sapling -- Sometimes -- scalps a Tree --
Her Green People recollect it
When they do not die -
Fainter Leaves -- to Further Seasons -- Dumbly testify --
We -- who have the Souls --
Die oftener -- Not so vitally --
He fumbles at your Soul
As Players at the Keys
Before they drop full Music on --
He stuns you by degrees --
Prepares your brittle Nature
For the Ethereal Blow
By fainter Hammers -- further heard -- Then nearer -- Then so slow
Your Breath has time to straighten -Your Brain -- to bubble Cool --
Deals -- One -- imperial -- Thunderbolt -- That scalps your naked Soul --
When Winds take Forests in the Paws -- The Universe -- is still -
The Wind didn't come from the Orchard -- today -- Further than that --
Nor stop to play with the Hay --
Nor joggle a Hat --
He's a transitive fellow -- very --
Rely on that --
If He leave a Bur at the door We know He has climbed a Fir -- But the Fir is Where -- Declare -- Were you ever there?
If He brings Odors of Clovers -- And that is His business -- not Ours -- Then He has been with the Mowers -- Whetting away the Hours
To sweet pauses of Hay --
His Way -- of a June Day --
If He fling Sand, and Pebble --
Little Boys Hats -- and Stubble -- With an occasional Steeple --
And a hoarse "Get out of the way, I say," Who'd be the fool to stay?
Would you -- Say --
Would you be the fool to stay?
Just so -- Jesus -- raps -
He -- doesn't weary --
Last -- at the Knocker -
And first -- at the Bell.
Then -- on divinest tiptoe -- standing -- Might He but spy the lady's soul -- When He -- retires --
Chilled -- or weary --
It will be ample time for -- me -- Patient -- upon the steps -- until then -- Hears! I am knocking -- low at thee.
I'll tell you how the Sun rose -- A Ribbon at a time --
The Steeples swam in Amethyst -- The news, like Squirrels, ran -- The Hills untied their Bonnets -- The Bobolinks -- begun --
Then I said softly to myself --
"That must have been the Sun"! But how he set -- I know not -- There seemed a purple stile
That little Yellow boys and girls Were climbing all the while --
Till when they reached the other side, A Dominie in Gray --
Put gently up the evening Bars -- And led the flock away --
The nearest Dream recedes -- unrealized -- The Heaven we chase,
Like the June Bee -- before the School Boy, Invites the Race --
Stoops -- to an easy Clover --
Dips -- evades -- teases -- deploys -- Then -- to the Royal Clouds
Lifts his light Pinnace -
Heedless of the Boy --
Staring -- bewildered -- at the mocking sky -- Homesick for steadfast Honey --
Ah, the Bee flies not
That brews that rare variety!
320
We play at Paste --
Till qualified, for Pearl -- Then, drop the Paste -- And deem ourself a fool --
The Shapes -- though -- were similar -- And our new Hands
Learned Gem-Tactics -
Practicing Sands --
Of all the Sounds despatched abroad, There's not a Charge to me
Like that old measure in the Boughs -- That phraseless Melody --
The Wind does -- working like a Hand, Whose fingers Comb the Sky --
Then quiver down -- with tufts of Tune -- Permitted Gods, and me --
Inheritance, it is, to us -
Beyond the Art to Earn --
Beyond the trait to take away
By Robber, since the Gain
Is gotten not of fingers -
And inner than the Bone --
Hid golden, for the whole of Days,
And even in the Urn,
I cannot vouch the merry Dust
Do not arise and play
In some odd fashion of its own,
Some quainter Holiday,
When Winds go round and round in Bands -- And thrum upon the door,
And Birds take places, overhead,
To bear them Orchestra.
I crave Him grace of Summer Boughs, If such an Outcast be -
Who never heard that fleshless Chant -- Rise -- solemn -- on the Tree,
As if some Caravan of Sound
Off Deserts, in the Sky,
Had parted Rank,
Then knit, and swept --
In Seamless Company --
There came a Day at Summer's full, Entirely for me --
I thought that such were for the Saints, Where Resurrections -- be --
The Sun, as common, went abroad, The flowers, accustomed, blew, As if no soul the solstice passed That maketh all things new --
The time was scarce profaned, by speech -- The symbol of a word
Was needless, as at Sacrament,
The Wardrobe -- of our Lord --
Each was to each The Sealed Church, Permitted to commune this -- time -- Lest we too awkward show
At Supper of the Lamb.
The Hours slid fast -- as Hours will, Clutched tight, by greedy hands -- So faces on two Decks, look back, Bound to opposing lands --
And so when all the time had leaked, Without external sound
Each bound the Other's Crucifix -- We gave no other Bond --
Sufficient troth, that we shall rise -- Deposed -- at length, the Grave -- To that new Marriage,
Justified -- through Calvaries of Love --
As if I asked a common Alms, And in my wondering hand A Stranger pressed a Kingdom, And I, bewildered, stand -- As if I asked the Orient
Had it for me a Morn --
And it should lift its purple Dikes, And shatter me with Dawn!
Some keep the Sabbath going to Church -- I keep it, staying at Home --
With a Bobolink for a Chorister --
And an Orchard, for a Dome --
Some keep the Sabbath in Surplice -I just wear my Wings --
And instead of tolling the Bell, for Church, Our little Sexton -- sings.
God preaches, a noted Clergyman -- And the sermon is never long,
So instead of getting to Heaven, at least -- I'm going, all along.
Of Tribulation, these are They, Denoted by the White -
The Spangled Gowns, a lesser Rank Of Victors -- designate -
All these -- did conquer --
But the ones who overcame most times -- Wear nothing commoner than Snow -- No Ornament, but Palms --
Surrender -- is a sort unknown -- On this superior soil --
Defeat -- an outgrown Anguish -- Remembered, as the Mile
Our panting Ankle barely passed -- When Night devoured the Road -- But we -- stood whispering in the House -- And all we said -- was "Saved"!
326I cannot dance upon my Toes -- No Man instructed me --
But oftentimes, among my mind, A Glee possesseth me,
That had I Ballet knowledge -- Would put itself abroad
In Pirouette to blanch a Troupe -- Or lay a Prima, mad,
And though I had no Gown of Gauze -- No Ringlet, to my Hair,
Nor hopped to Audiences -- like Birds, One Claw upon the Air,
Nor tossed my shape in Eider Balls, Nor rolled on wheels of snow Till I was out of sight, in sound, The House encore me so --
Nor any know I know the Art I mention -- easy -- Here -- Nor any Placard boast me -- It's full as Opera --
Before I got my eye put out
I liked as well to see --
As other Creatures, that have Eyes And know no other way --
But were it told to me -- Today -- That I might have the sky
For mine -- I tell you that my Heart Would split, for size of me --
The Meadows -- mine --
The Mountains -- mine --
All Forests -- Stintless Stars -- As much of Noon as I could take Between my finite eyes -
The Motions of the Dipping Birds -- The Morning's Amber Road -- For mine -- to look at when I liked -The News would strike me dead --
So safer -- guess -- with just my soul Upon the Window pane --
Where other Creatures put their eyes -- Incautious -- of the Sun --
A Bird came down the Walk -- He did not know I saw --
He bit an Angleworm in halves And ate the fellow, raw,
And then he drank a Dew
From a convenient Grass --
And then hopped sidewise to the Wall To let a Beetle pass --
He glanced with rapid eyes That hurried all around -They looked like frightened Beads, I thought -- He stirred his Velvet Head
Like one in danger, Cautious, I offered him a Crumb
And he unrolled his feathers And rowed him softer home --
Than Oars divide the Ocean, Too silver for a seam --
Or Butterflies, off Banks of Noon Leap, plashless as they swim.
So glad we are -- a Stranger'd deem 'Twas sorry, that we were --
For where the Holiday should be There publishes a Tear -
Nor how Ourselves be justified -- Since Grief and Joy are done So similar -- An Optizan
Could not decide between --
The Juggler's Hat her Country is -- The Mountain Gorse -- the Bee's!
331
While Asters --
On the Hill --
Their Everlasting fashions -- set -- And Covenant Gentians -- Frill! There are two Ripenings -- one -- of sight -- Whose forces Spheric wind
Until the Velvet product
Drop spicy to the ground --
A homelier maturing --
A process in the Bur --
That teeth of Frosts alone disclose
In far October Air.
The Grass so little has to do -- A Sphere of simple Green -- With only Butterflies to brood And Bees to entertain -
And stir all day to pretty Tunes The Breezes fetch along -- And hold the Sunshine in its lap And bow to everything --
And thread the Dews, all night, like Pearls -- And make itself so fine
A Duchess were too common
For such a noticing --
And even when it dies -- to pass In Odors so divine --
Like Lowly spices, lain to sleep -- Or Spikenards, perishing --
And then, in Sovereign Barns to dwell -- And dream the Days away,
The Grass so little has to do
I wish I were a Hay --
334 All the letters I can write
Are not fair as this --
Syllables of Velvet --
Sentences of Plush,
Depths of Ruby, undrained, Hid, Lip, for Thee --
Play it were a Humming Bird -- And just sipped -- me --
'Tis not that Dying hurts us so -- 'Tis Living -- hurts us more -- But Dying -- is a different way -- A Kind behind the Door --
The Southern Custom -- of the Bird -- That ere the Frosts are due --
Accepts a better Latitude --
We -- are the Birds -- that stay.
The Shrivers round Farmers' doors -- For whose reluctant Crumb --
We stipulate -- till pitying Snows Persuade our Feathers Home.
The face I carry with me -- last -- When I go out of Time --
To take my Rank -- by -- in the West -- That face -- will just be thine --
I'll hand it to the Angel --
That -- Sir -- was my Degree --
In Kingdoms -- you have heard the Raised -- Refer to -- possibly.
He'll take it -- scan it -- step aside -- Return -- with such a crown
As Gabriel -- never capered at -- And beg me put it on -
And then -- he'll turn me round and round -- To an admiring sky --
As one that bore her Master's name -- Sufficient Royalty!
I know a place where Summer strives With such a practised Frost --
She -- each year -- leads her Daisies back -- Recording briefly -- "Lost" --
But when the South Wind stirs the Pools And struggles in the lanes --
Her Heart misgives Her, for Her Vow -- And she pours soft Refrains
Into the lap of Adamant -- And spices -- and the Dew -- That stiffens quietly to Quartz -- Upon her Amber Shoe --
338I know that He exists. Somewhere -- in Silence -- He has hid his rare life From our gross eyes.
'Tis an instant's play. 'Tis a fond Ambush -- Just to make Bliss
Earn her own surprise!
But -- should the play Prove piercing earnest -Should the glee -- glaze -- In Death's -- stiff -- stare --
Would not the fun Look too expensive! Would not the jest -- Have crawled too far!
339I tend my flowers for thee -- Bright Absentee!
My Fuchsia's Coral Seams
Rip -- while the Sower -- dreams --
Geraniums -- tint -- and spot -- Low Daisies -- dot --
My Cactus -- splits her Beard To show her throat --
Carnations -- tip their spice -- And Bees -- pick up --
A Hyacinth -- I hid --
Puts out a Ruffled Head -- And odors fall
From flasks -- so small -You marvel how they held --
Globe Roses -- break their satin flake -- Upon my Garden floor -
Yet -- thou -- not there --
I had as lief they bore
No Crimson -- more --
Thy flower -- be gay -- Her Lord -- away!
It ill becometh me --
I'll dwell in Calyx -- Gray -- How modestly -- alway -- Thy Daisy --
Draped for thee!
Is Bliss then, such Abyss, I must not put my foot amiss For fear I spoil my shoe?
I'd rather suit my foot
Than save my Boot -- For yet to buy another Pair Is possible,
At any store --
But Bliss, is sold just once. The Patent lost
None buy it any more -- Say, Foot, decide the point -- The Lady cross, or not? Verdict for Boot!
After great pain, a formal feeling comes -- The Nerves sit ceremonious, like Tombs -- The stiff Heart questions was it He, that bore, And Yesterday, or Centuries before?
The Feet, mechanical, go round -- Of Ground, or Air, or Ought -- A Wooden way
Regardless grown,
A Quartz contentment, like a stone -
This is the Hour of Lead --
Remembered, if outlived,
As Freezing persons, recollect the Snow -- First -- Chill -- then Stupor -- then the letting go -
It will be Summer -- eventually. Ladies -- with parasols -
Sauntering Gentlemen -- with Canes -- And little Girls -- with Dolls --
Will tint the pallid landscape -- As 'twere a bright Bouquet -- Thro' drifted deep, in Parian -- The Village lies -- today --
The Lilacs -- bending many a year -- Will sway with purple load --
The Bees -- will not despise the tune -- Their Forefathers -- have hummed --
The Wild Rose -- redden in the Bog -- The Aster -- on the Hill
Her everlasting fashion -- set -- And Covenant Gentians -- frill --
Till Summer folds her miracle -- As Women -- do -- their Gown -- Of Priests -- adjust the Symbols -- When Sacrament -- is done --
343My Reward for Being, was This. My premium -- My Bliss -- An Admiralty, less --
A Sceptre -- penniless --
And Realms -- just Dross --
When Thrones accost my Hands --
With "Me, Miss, Me" --
I'll unroll Thee --
Dominions dowerless -- beside this Grace -- Election -- Vote --
The Ballots of Eternity, will show just that. 'Twas the old -- road -- through pain -- That unfrequented -- one --
With many a turn -- and thorn -- That stops -- at Heaven --
This -- was the Town -- she passed -There -- where she -- rested -- last -Then -- stepped more fast --
The little tracks -- close prest --
Then -- not so swift --
Slow -- slow -- as feet did weary -- grow -- Then -- stopped -- no other track!
Wait! Look! Her little Book --
The leaf -- at love -- turned back -- Her very Hat --
And this worn shoe just fits the track -- Herself -- though -- fled!
Another bed -- a short one -- Women make -- tonight -- In Chambers bright --
Too out of sight -- though -- For our hoarse Good Night -- To touch her Head!
Funny -- to be a Century --
And see the People -- going by -- I -- should die of the Oddity --
But then -- I'm not so staid -- as He --
He keeps His Secrets safely -- very -- Were He to tell -- extremely sorry This Bashful Globe of Ours would be -- So dainty of Publicity --
Not probable -- The barest Chance -- A smile too few -- a word too much And far from Heaven as the Rest -- The Soul so close on Paradise --
What if the Bird from journey far -- Confused by Sweets -- as Mortals -- are -- Forget the secret of His wing
And perish -- but a Bough between -- Oh, Groping feet --
Oh Phantom Queen!
When Night is almost done -- And Sunrise grows so near That we can touch the Spaces -- It's time to smooth the Hair --
And get the Dimples ready -- And wonder we could care For that old -- faded Midnight -- That frightened -- but an Hour --
348I dreaded that first Robin, so, But He is mastered, now, I'm accustomed to Him grown, He hurts a little, though -
I thought If I could only live Till that first Shout got by -- Not all Pianos in the Woods Had power to mangle me --
I dared not meet the Daffodils -- For fear their Yellow Gown Would pierce me with a fashion So foreign to my own --
I wished the Grass would hurry -- So -- when 'twas time to see -- He'd be too tall, the tallest one Could stretch -- to look at me --
I could not bear the Bees should come, I wished they'd stay away
In those dim countries where they go, What word had they, for me?
They're here, though; not a creature failed -- No Blossom stayed away
In gentle deference to me --
The Queen of Calvary --
Each one salutes me, as he goes, And I, my childish Plumes,
Lift, in bereaved acknowledgment Of their unthinking Drums --
I had the Glory -- that will do --
An Honor, Thought can turn her to When lesser Fames invite --
With one long "Nay" --
Bliss' early shape
Deforming -- Dwindling -- Gulfing up -- Time's possibility.
They leave us with the Infinite. But He -- is not a man --
His fingers are the size of fists -- His fists, the size of men --
And whom he foundeth, with his Arm As Himmaleh, shall stand --
Gibraltar's Everlasting Shoe
Poised lightly on his Hand,
So trust him, Comrade --
You for you, and I, for you and me Eternity is ample,
And quick enough, if true.
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 at every pound
To ask the Owner's name --
For doubt, that I should know the Sound --
I judged my features -- jarred my hair -- I pushed my dimples by, and waited -- If they -- twinkled back -
Conviction might, of me --
I told myself, "Take Courage, Friend -- That -- was a former time --
But we might learn to like the Heaven, As well as our Old Home!"
Perhaps I asked too large -- I take -- no less than skies -- For Earths, grow thick as Berries, in my native town --
My Basked holds -- just -- Firmaments -- Those -- dangle easy -- on my arm, But smaller bundles -- Cram.
353
A happy lip -- breaks sudden -- It doesn't state you how
It contemplated -- smiling -- Just consummated -- now -- But this one, wears its merriment So patient -- like a pain -
Fresh gilded -- to elude the eyes Unqualified, to scan --
From Cocoon forth a Butterfly As Lady from her Door
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