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I never lost as much but twice,
And that was in the sod.
Twice have I stood a beggar
Before the door of God!
Angels-twice descending
Reimbursed my store-
Burglar! Banker-Father!
I am poor once more!
To Top
Success is counted sweetest
By those who ne'er succeed.
To comprehend a nectar
Requires sorest need.
Not one of all the purple Host
Who took the Flag today
Can tell the definition
So clear of Victory
As he defeated-dying-
On whose forbidden car
The distant strains of triumph
Burst agonized and clear!
To Top
Our lives are Swiss-
So still-so Cool-
Till some odd afternoon
The Alps neglect their Curtains
And we look farther on!
Italy stands the other side!
While like a guard between-
The solemn Alps-
The siren Alps
Forever intervene!
To Top
My friend must he a Bird-
Because it flies!
Mortal, my friend must be,
Because it dies!
Barbs has it, like a Bee!
Ah, curious friend!
Thou puzzlest me!
To Top
Surgeons must be very careful
When they take the knife!
Underneath their fine incisions
Stirs the Culprit-Life!
To Top
A Wounded Deer-leaps highest-
I've heard the Hunter tell-
'Tis but the Ecstasy of death-
And then the Brake is still!
The Smitten Rock that gushes!
The trampled Steel that springs!
A Cheek is always redder
Just where the Hectic stings!
Mirth is the Mail of Anguish-
In which it Cautious Arm,
Lest anybody spy the blood
And "you're hurt" exclaim!
To Top
A fuzzy fellow, without feet,
Yet doth exceeding run!
Of velvet, is his Countenance,
And his Complexion, dun!
Sometimes, he dwelleth in the grass!
Sometime, upon a bough,
From which he doth descend in plush
Upon the Passer-by!
All this in summer.
But when winds alarm the Forest Folk,
He taketh Damask Residence-
And struts in sewing silk!
Then, finer than a Lady,
Emerges in the spring!
A Feather on each shoulder!
You'd scarce recognize him!
By Men, yclept Caterpillar!
By me! But who am I,
To tell the pretty secret
Of the Butterfly!
To Top
"Faith" is a fine invention
When Gentlemen can see-
But Microscopes are prudent
In an Emergency.
To Top
I taste a liquor never brewed-
From Tankards scooped in Pearl-
Not all the Vats upon the Rhine
Yield such an Alcohol!
Inebriate of Air-am I-
And Debauchee of Dew-
Reeling-thro endless summer days-
From inns of Molten Blue-
When "Landlords" turn the drunken Bee
Out of the Foxglove's door-
When Butterflies-renounce their "drams"-
I shall but drink the more!
Till Seraphs swing their snowy Hats-
And Saints-to windows run-
To see the little Tippler
Leaning against the-Sun-
To Top
I like a look of Agony,
Because I know it's true-
Men do not sham Convulsion,
Nor simulate, a Throe-
The Eyes glaze once-and that is Death-
Impossible to feign
The heads upon the Forehead
By homely Anguish strung.
To Top
Wild Nights-Wild Nights!
Were I with thee
Wild Nights should he
Our luxury!
Futile-the Winds-
To a Heart in port-
Done with the Compass-
Done with the Chart!
Rowing in Eden-
Ah, the Sea!
Might I but moor-Tonight-
In Thee!
To Top
"Hope" is the thing with feathers-
That perches in the soul-
And sings the tune without the words-
And never stops-at all-
And sweetest-in the Gale-is heard-
And sore must be the storm-
That could abash the little Bird
That keeps so many warm-
I've heard it in the chillest land-
And on the strangest Sea-
Yet, never, in Extremity,
It asked a crumb-of Me.
To Top
I felt a Funeral, in my Brain,
And Mourners to and fro
Kept treading-treading-till it seemed
That Sense was breaking through-
And when they all were seated,
A Service, like a Drum-
Kept beating-beating-till I thought
My Mind was going numb-
And then I heard them lift a Box
And creak across my Soul
With those same Boots of Lead, again,
Then Space-gan to toll,
As all the Heavens were a Bell,
And Being, but an Ear,
And I, and Silence, some strange Race
Wrecked, solitary, here-
And then a Plank in Reason, broke,
And I dropped down, and down-
And hit a World, at every plunge,
And Finished knowing-then-
To Top
I'm Nobody! Who are you?
Are you-Nobody-Too?
Then there's a pair of us?
Don't tell! they'd advertise-you know!
How dreary-to bc-Somebody!
How public-like a Frog-
To tell one's name-the livelong June-
To an admiring Bog!
To Top
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?
To Top
The Soul selects her own Society-
Then-shuts the Door-
To her divine Majority-
Present no more-
Unmoved-she notes the Chariots-pausing#45;
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-
To Top
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 Dominic in Gray-
Put gently up the evening Bars-
And led the flock away-
To Top
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 Freeziug persons, recollect the Snow-
First-Chill-then Stupor-then the letting go#45;
To Top
This is my letter to the World
That never wrote to Me-
The simple News that Nature told-
With tender Majesty
Her Message is committed
To Hands I cannot see-
For love of Her-Sweet-countrymen-
Judge tenderly-of Me
To Top
I heard a Fly buzz-when I died-
The Stillness in the Room
Was like the Stillness in the Air-
Between the Heaves of Storm-
The Eyes around-had wrung them dry-
And Breaths were gathering firm
For that last Onset-when the King
Be witnessed-in the Room-
I willed my Keepsakes-Signed away
What portions of me be
Assignable-and then it was
There interposed a Fly-
With Blue-uncertain stumbling Buzz-
Between the light-and me-
And then the Windows failed-and then
I could not see to see-
To Top
Beauty-be not caused-It Is-
Chase it, and it ceases-
Chase it not, and it abides-
Overtake the Creases
In the Meadow-when the Wind
Runs his fingers thro' it-
Deity will see to it
That You never do it-
To Top
I could bring You Jewels-had I a mind to-
But You have enough-of those-
I could bring You Odors from St. Domingo-
Colors-from Vera Cruz-
Berries of the Bahamas-have I-
But this little Blaze
Flickering to itself-in the Meadow-
Suits Me-more than those-
Never a Fellow matched this Topaz-
And his Emerald Swing-
Dower itself-for Bobadilo-
Better-Could I bring?
To Top
Because I could not stop for Death-
He kindly stopped for me-
The Carriage held but just Ourselves-
And Immortality.
We slowly drove- He knew no haste
And I had put away
My labor and my leisure too,
For His Civility-
We passed the School, where Children strove
At Recess-in the Ring-
We passed the Fields of Gazing Grain-
We passed the Setting Sun-
Or rather-He passed Us-
The Dews drew quivering and chill-
For only Gossamer, my Gown-
My Tippet-only Tulle-
We paused before a House that seemed
A Swelling of the Ground-
The Roof was scarcely visible-
The Cornice-in the Ground-
Since then-'tis Centuries-and yet
Feels shorter than the Day
I first surmised the Horses' Heads
Were toward Eternity-
To Top
Spring is the Period
Express from God.
Among the other seasons
Himself abide,
But during March and April
None stir abroad
Without a cordial interview
With God.
To Top
Color-Caste-Denomination-
These-are Time's Affair-
Death's diviner Classifying
Does not know they are-
As in sleep-All Hue forgotten-
Tenets-put behind-
Death's large-Democratic fingers
Rub away the Brand-
If Circassian-He is careless-
If He put away
Chrysalis of Blonde-or Umber-
Equal Butterfly-
They emerge from His Obscuring-
What Death- knows so well-
Our minuter intuitions-
Deem unplausible-
To Top
A narrow Fellow in the Grass
Occasionally rides-
You may have met Him-did you not
His notice sudden is-
The Grass divides as with a Comb-
A spotted shaft is seen-
And then it closes at your feet
And opens further on-
He likes a Boggy Acre
A Floor too cool for Corn-
Yet when A Boy, and Barefoot-
I more than once at Noon
Have passed, I thought, a Whip lash
Unbraiding in the Sun
When stooping to secure it
It wrinkled, and was gone-
Several of Nature's People
I know, and they know me-
I feel for them a transport
Of cordiality-
But never met this Fellow
Attended, or alone
Without a tighter breathing
And Zero at the Bone-
To Top
I never saw a Moor-
I never saw the Sea-
Yet know I how the Heather looks
And 'what a Billow be.
I never spoke with God
Nor visited in Heaven-
Yet certain am I of the spot
As if the Checks were given-
To Top
Tell all the Truth but tell it slant-
Success in Circuit lies
Too bright for our infirm Delight
The Truth's superb surprise
As Lightning to the Children eased
With explanation kind
The Truth must dazzle gradually
Or every man be blind-
To Top
There is no Frigate like a Book
To take us Lands away
Nor any Coursers like a Page
Of prancing Poetry-
This Traverse may the poorest take
Without oppress of Toll-
How frugal is the Chariot
That bears the Human soul.
To Top
The Bone that has no Marrow,
What Ultimate for that?
It is not fit for Table
For Beggar or for Cat.
A Bone has obligations-
A Being has the same-
A Marrowless Assembly
Is culpabler than shame.
But how shall finished Creatures
A function fresh obtain?
Old Nicodemus' Phantom
Confronting us again!
To Top
A little Madness in the Spring
Is wholesome even for the King,
But God be with the Clown-
Who ponders this tremendous scene-
This whole Experiment of Green-
As if it were his own!
To Top
Fame is a fickle food
Upon a shifting plate
Whose table once a
Guest but not
The second time is set.
Whose crumbs the crows inspect
And with ironic caw
Flap past it to the Farmer's Corn-
Men eat of it and die.