Poems List
The Robin for the Crumb
864
The Robin for the Crumb
Returns no syllable
But long records the Lady's name
In Silver Chronicle.
The rainbow never tells me
97
The rainbow never tells me
That gust and storm are by,
Yet is she more convincing
Than Philosophy.
My flowers turn from Forums-
Yet eloquent declare
What Cato couldn't prove me
Except the birds were here!
The Province of the Saved
539
The Province of the Saved
Should be the Art-To save-
Through Skill obtained in Themselves-
The Science of the Grave
No Man can understand
But He that hath endured
The Dissolution-in Himself-
That Man-be qualified
To qualify Despair
To Those who failing new-
Mistake Defeat for Death-Each time-
Till acclimated-to-
The Poets light but Lamps
883
The Poets light but LampsThemselves-
go out-
The Wicks they stimulate-
If vital Light
Inhere as do the Suns-
Each Age a Lens
Disseminating their
Circumference-
The Outer—from the Inner
451
The Outer—from the Inner
Derives its Magnitude—
'Tis Duke, or Dwarf, according
As is the Central Mood—
The fine—unvarying Axis
That regulates the Wheel—
Though Spokes—spin—more conspicuous
And fling a dust—the while.
The Inner—paints the Outer—
The Brush without the Hand—
Its Picture publishes—precise—
As is the inner Brand—
On fine—Arterial Canvas—
A Cheek—perchance a Brow—
The Star's whole Secret—in the Lake—
Eyes were not meant to know.
The only ghost I ever saw
The only ghost I ever saw
Was dressed in mechlin, --so;
He wore no sandal on his foot,
And stepped like flakes of snow.
His gait was soundless, like the bird,
But rapid, like the roe;
His fashions quaint, mosaic,
Or, haply, mistletoe.
Hi conversation seldom,
His laughter like the breeze
That dies away in dimples
Among the pensive trees.
Our interview was transient, --
Of me, himself was shy;
And God forbid I look behind
Since that appalling day!
The Night was wide, and furnished scant
589
The Night was wide, and furnished scant
With but a single Star-
That often as a Cloud it met-
Blew out itself-for fear-
The Wind pursued the little Bush-
And drove away the Leaves
November left-then clambered up
And fretted in the Eaves-
No Squirrel went abroad-
A Dog's belated feet
Like intermittent Plush, he heard
Adown the empty Street-
To feel if Blinds be fast-
And closer to the fire-
Her little Rocking Chair to draw-
And shiver for the Poor-
The Housewife's gentle Task-
How pleasanter-said she
Unto the Sofa opposite-
The Sleet-than May, no Thee-
The name-of it-is Autumn
656
The name-of it-is "Autumn"-
The hue-of it-is Blood-
An Artery-upon the Hill-
A Vein-along the Road-
Great Globules-in the Alleys-
And Oh, the Shower of Stain-
When Winds-upset the Basin-
And spill the Scarlet Rain-
It sprinkles Bonnets-far below-
It gathers ruddy PoolsThen-
eddies like a Rose-away-
Upon Vermilion Wheels-
The Murmur of a Bee
155
The Murmur of a Bee
A Witchcraft-yieldeth me-
If any ask me why'
Twere easier to die-
Than tell-
The Red upon the Hill
Taketh away my will-
If anybody sneer-
Take care-for God is hereThat's
all.
The Breaking of the Day
Addeth to my Degree-
If any ask me howArtist-
who drew me so-
Must tell!
The Mountain sat upon the Plain
975
The Mountain sat upon the Plain
In his tremendous Chair-
His observation omnifold,
His inquest, everywhere-
The Seasons played around his knees
Like Children round a sire-
Grandfather of the Days is He
Of Dawn, the Ancestor-
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