Poems List
By a flower—By a letter
109
By a flower—By a letter—
By a nimble love—
If I weld the Rivet faster—
Final fast—above—
Never mind my breathless Anvil!
Never mind Repose!
Never mind the sooty faces
Tugging at the Forge!
Why-do they shut Me out of Heaven?
248
Why-do they shut Me out of Heaven?
Did I sing-too loud?
But-I can say a little "Minor"
Timid as a Bird!
Wouldn't the Angels try meJust-
once-moreJust-
see-if I troubled them-
But don't-shut the door!
Oh, if I-were the Gentleman
In the "White Robe"-
And they-were the little Hand-that knockedCould-
I-forbid?
Bring me the sunset in a cup
128
Bring me the sunset in a cup,
Reckon the morning's flagons up
And say how many Dew,
Tell me how far the morning leaps-
Tell me what time the weaver sleeps
Who spun the breadth of blue!
Write me how many notes there be
In the new Robin's ecstasy
Among astonished boughs-
How many trips the Tortoise makes-
How many cups the Bee partakes,
The Debauchee of Dews!
Also, who laid the Rainbow's piers,
Also, who leads the docile spheres
By withes of supple blue?
Whose fingers string the stalactite-
Who counts the wampum of the night
To see that none is due?
Who built this little Alban House
And shut the windows down so close
My spirit cannot see?
Who'll let me out some gala day
With implements to fly away,
Passing Pomposity?
Why do I love You, Sir?
"Why do I love" You, Sir?
Because—
The Wind does not require the Grass
To answer—Wherefore when He pass
She cannot keep Her place.
Because He knows—and
Do not You—
And We know not—
Enough for Us
The Wisdom it be so—
The Lightning—never asked an Eye
Wherefore it shut—when He was by—
Because He knows it cannot speak—
And reasons not contained—
—Of Talk—
There be—preferred by Daintier Folk—
The Sunrise—Sire—compelleth Me—
Because He's Sunrise—and I see—
Therefore—Then—
I love Thee—
Whose are the little beds, I asked
142
Whose are the little beds, I asked
Which in the valleys lie?
Some shook their heads, and others smiled-
And no one made reply.
Perhaps they did not hear, I said,
I will inquire again-
Whose are the beds-the tiny beds
So thick upon the plain?
'Tis Daisy, in the shortest-
A little further on-
Nearest the door-to wake the Ist-
Little Leontoden.
'Tis Iris, Sir, and Aster-
Anemone, and Bell-
Bartsia, in the blanket red-
And chubby Daffodil.
Meanwhile, at many cradles
Her busy foot she plied-
Humming the quaintest lullaby
That ever rocked a child.
Hush! Epigea wakens!
The Crocus stirs her lidsRhodora's
cheek is crimson,
She's dreaming of the woods!
Then turning from them reverent-
Their bedtime 'tis, she said-
The Bumble bees will wake them
When April woods are red.
Bound-a trouble
269
Bound-a trouble-
And lives can bear it!
Limit-how deep a bleeding go!
So-many-drops-of vital scarlet-
Deal with the soul
As with Algebra!
Tell it the Ages-to a cypher-
And it will ache-contented-onSing-
at its pain-as any Workman-
Notching the fall of the Even Sun!
Who never lost, are unprepared
73
Who never lost, are unprepared
A Coronet to find!
Who never thirsted
Flagons, and Cooling Tamarind!
Who never climbed the weary league-
Can such a foot explore
The purple territories
On Pizarro's shore?
How many Legions overcome-
The Emperor will say?
How many Colors taken
On Revolution Day?
How many Bullets bearest?
Hast Thou the Royal scar?
Angels! Write "Promoted"
On this Soldier's brow!
Bless God, he went as soldiers
147
Bless God, he went as soldiers,
His musket on his breast-
Grant God, he charge the bravest
Of all the martial blest!
Please God, might I behold him
In epauletted white-
I should not fear the foe then-
I should not fear the fight!
Bird
A bird came down the walk:
He did not know I saw;
He bit an angle-worm in halves
And ate the fellow, raw.
And then he drank a dew
From a convenient grass,
And the hopped sideways to the wall
To let a beetle pass.
He glanced with rapid eyes
That hurried all abroad, -
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 rolled him softer home
Then oars divide the ocean,
Too silver for a seam,
Or butterflies, off banks of noon,
Leap, plashless, as they swim.
Who Court obtain within Himself
803
Who Court obtain within Himself
Sees every Man a King-
And Poverty of Monarchy
Is an interior thing-
No Man depose
Whom Fate Ordain-
And Who can add a Crown
To Him who doth continual
Conspire against His Own
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