Faith, Spirituality and Religion

I think just how my shape will rise

237

I think just how my shape will rise-
When I shall be "forgiven"-
Till Hair-and Eyes-and timid Head-
Are out of sight-in Heaven-

I think just how my lips will weigh-
With shapeless-quivering-prayer-
That you-so late-"Consider" me-
The "Sparrow" of your Care-

I mind me that of Anguish-sent-
Some drifts were moved away-
Before my simple bosom-broke-
And why not this-if they?

And so I con that thing-"forgiven"Until-
delirious-borne-
By my long bright-and longer-trust-
I drop my Heart-unshriven!

I shall know why—when Time is over

193

I shall know why—when Time is over—
And I have ceased to wonder why—
Christ will explain each separate anguish
In the fair schoolroom of the sky—


He will tell me what "Peter" promised—
And I—for wonder at his woe—
I shall forget the drop of Anguish
That scalds me now—that scalds me now!

I prayed, at first, a little Girl

576

I prayed, at first, a little Girl,
Because they told me to-
But stopped, when qualified to guess
How prayer would feel-to me-

If I believed God looked around,
Each time my Childish eye
Fixed full, and steady, on his own
In Childish honesty-

And told him what I'd like, today,
And parts of his far plan
That baffled me-
The mingled side
Of his Divinity-

And often since, in Danger,
I count the force 'twould be
To have a God so strong as that
To hold my life for me

Till I could take the Balance
That tips so frequent, now,
It takes me all the while to poise-
And then-it doesn't stay-

I never lost as much but twice

49

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!

I never felt at Home—Below

413

I never felt at Home—Below—-
And in the Handsome Skies
I shall not feel at Home—I know—
I don't like Paradise—


Because it's Sunday—all the time—
And Recess—never comes—
And Eden'll be so lonesome
Bright Wednesday Afternoons—


If God could make a visit—
Or ever took a Nap—
So not to see us—but they say
Himself—a Telescope


Perennial beholds us—
Myself would run away
From Him—and Holy Ghost—and All—
But there's the "Judgement Day"!

I meant to have but modest needs

476

I meant to have but modest needs-
Such as Content-and Heaven-
Within my income-these could lie
And Life and I-keep even-

But since the last-included both-
It would suffice my Prayer
But just for One-to stipulate-
And Grace would grant the Pair-

And so-upon this wise-I prayed-
Great Spirit-Give to me
A Heaven not so large as Yours,
But large enough-for me-

A Smile suffused Jehovah's face-
The Cherubim-withdrew-
Grave Saints stole out to look at me-
And showed their dimples-too-

I left the Place, with all my might-
I threw my Prayer away-
The Quiet Ages picked it up-
And Judgment-twinkled-too-
Tat one so honest-be extant-
It take the Tale for true-
That "Whatsoever Ye shall ask-
Itself be given You"-

But I, grown shrewder-scan the Skies
With a suspicious Air-
As Children-swindled for the first
All Swindlers-be-infer-

I live with Him—I see His face

463

I live with Him—I see His face—
I go no more away
For Visitor—or Sundown—
Death's single privacy


The Only One—forestalling Mine—
And that—by Right that He
Presents a Claim invisible—
No wedlock—granted Me—


I live with Him—I hear His Voice—
I stand alive—Today—
To witness to the Certainty
Of Immortality—


Taught Me—by Time—the lower Way—
Conviction—Every day—
That Life like This—is stopless—
Be Judgment—what it may—

I have a King, who does not speak

103

I have a King, who does not speakSo-
wondering-thro' the hours meek
I trudge the day away-
Half glad when it is night, and sleep,
If, haply, thro' a dream, to peep
In parlors, shut by day.


And if I do-when morning comes-
It is as if a hundred drums
Did round my pillow roll,
And shouts fill all my Childish sky,
And Bells keep saying "Victory"
From steeples in my soul!


And if I don't-the little Bird
Within the Orchard, is not heard,
And I omit to pray
"Father, thy will be done" today
For my will goes the other way,
And it were perjury!

I got so I could take his name

293

I got so I could take his nameWithout-
Tremendous gain-
That Stop-sensation-on my Soul-
And Thunder-in the Room-

I got so I could walk across
That Angle in the floor,
Where he turned so, and I turned-how-
And all our Sinew tore-

I got so I could stir the Box-
In which his letters grew
Without that forcing, in my breath-
As Staples-driven through-

Could dimly recollect a Grace-
I think, they call it "God"-
Renowned to ease Extremity-
When Formula, had failed-

And shape my HandsPetition's
way,
Tho' ignorant of a word
That Ordination-utters-

My Business, with the Cloud,
If any Power behind it, be,
Not subject to Despair-
It care, in some remoter way,
For so minute affair
As Misery-
Itself, too vast, for interrupting-more-

I cannot live with You (No. 640)

I cannot live with You--
It would be Life--
And Life is over there--
Behind the Shelf

The Sexton keeps the Key to--
Putting up
Our Life--His Porcelain--
Like a Cup--

Discarded of the Housewife-Quaint--
or Broke--
A newer Sevres pleases--
Old Ones crack--

I could not die--with You--
For One must wait
To shut the Other's Gaze down-You--
could not--

And I--could I stand by
And see You--freeze--
Without my Right of Frost-Death's
privilege?

Nor could I rise--with You--
Because Your Face
Would put out Jesus'--
That New Grace

Glow plain--and foreign
On my homesick Eye--
Except that You than He
Shone closer by-


They'd judge Us--How--
For You--served Heaven--You know,
Or sought to--
I could not--

Because You saturated Sight--
And I had no more Eyes
For sordid excellence
As Paradise

And were You lost, I would be--
Though My Name
Rang loudest
On the Heavenly fame--

And were You--saved--
And I--condemned to be


Where You were not--
That self--were Hell to Me--

So We must meet apart--
You there--I--here--
With just the Door ajar
That Oceans are--and Prayer--
And that White Sustenance--
Despair--

He outstripped Time with but a Bout

865

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 larger Glory for the less
A just sufficient Ring.

He put the Belt around my life

273

He put the Belt around my life
I heard the Buckle snap-
And turned away, imperial,
My Lifetime folding up-
Deliberate, as a Duke would do
A Kingdom's Title Deed-
Henceforth, a Dedicated sort-
A Member of the Cloud.

Yet not too far to come at call-
And do the little Toils
That make the Circuit of the Rest-
And deal occasional smiles
To lives that stoop to notice mine-
And kindly ask it in-
Whose invitation, know you not
For Whom I must decline?

He forgot—and I—remembered

203

He forgot—and I—remembered—
'Twas an everyday affair—
Long ago as Christ and Peter—
"Warmed them" at the "Temple fire."


"Thou wert with him"—quoth "the Damsel"?
"No"—said Peter, 'twasn't me—
Jesus merely "looked" at Peter—
Could I do aught else—to Thee?

God permit industrious angels

God permit industrious angels
Afternoons to play.
I met one, -- forgot my school-mates,
All, for him, straightaway.


God calls home the angels promptly
At the setting sun;
I missed mine. How dreary marbles,
After playing the Crown!

God is a distant—stately Lover

357

God is a distant—stately Lover—
Woos, as He states us—by His Son—
Verily, a Vicarious Courtship—
"Miles", and "Priscilla", were such an One—


But, lest the Soul—like fair "Priscilla"
Choose the Envoy—and spurn the Groom—
Vouches, with hyperbolic archness—
"Miles", and "John Alden" were Synonym—

Given in Marriage unto Thee

817

Given in Marriage unto Thee
Oh thou Celestial Host-
Bride of the Father and the Son
Bride of the Holy Ghost.

Other Betrothal shall dissolve-
Wedlock of Will, decay-
Only the Keeper of this Ring
Conquer Mortality-

Dropped into the Ether Acre

665

Dropped into the Ether Acre-
Wearing the Sod Gown-
Bonnet of Everlasting LacesBrooch-
frozen on-

Horses of Blonde-and Coach of Silver-
Baggage a strapped Pearl-
Journey of Down-and Whip of Diamond-
Riding to meet the Earl-

Did Our Best Moment last

393

Did Our Best Moment last'
Twould supersede the Heaven-
A few-and they by Risk-procure-
So this Sort-are not given-

Except as stimulants-in
Cases of Despair-
Or Stupor-The Reserve-
These Heavenly Moments are-

A Grant of the Divine-
That Certain as it ComesWithdraws-
and leaves the dazzled Soul
In her unfurnished Rooms

Death is a Dialogue between

976

Death is a Dialogue between
The Spirit and the Dust.
"Dissolve" says Death-The Spirit "Sir
I have another Trust"-

Death doubts it-Argues from the Ground-
The Spirit turns away
Just laying off for evidence
An Overcoat of Clay.

By my Window have I for Scenery

797

By my Window have I for Scenery
Just a Sea-with a Stem-
If the Bird and the Farmer-deem it a "Pine"-
The Opinion will serve-for them-

It has no Port, nor a "Line"-but the Jays-
That split their route to the Sky-
Or a Squirrel, whose giddy Peninsula
May be easier reached-this way-

For Inlands-the Earth is the under side-
And the upper side-is the Sun-
And its Commerce-if Commerce it have-
Of Spice-I infer from the Odors borne-

Of its Voice-to affirm-when the Wind is within-
Can the Dumb-define the Divine?
The Definition of Melody-is-
That Definition is none


It-suggests to our FaithThey-
suggest to our Sight-
When the latter-is put away
I shall meet with Conviction I somewhere met
That Immortality-

Was the Pine at my Window a "Fellow
Of the Royal" Infinity?
Apprehensions-are God's introductions-
To be hallowed-accordingly-

Better—than Music! For I—who heard it

503

Better—than Music! For I—who heard it—
I was used—to the Birds—before—
This—was different—'Twas Translation—
Of all tunes I knew—and more—


'Twasn't contained—like other stanza—
No one could play it—the second time—
But the Composer—perfect Mozart—
Perish with him—that Keyless Rhyme!


So—Children—told how Brooks in Eden—
Bubbled a better—Melody—
Quaintly infer—Eve's great surrender—
Urging the feet—that would—not—fly—


Children—matured—are wiser—mostly—
Eden—a legend—dimly told—
Eve—and the Anguish—Grandame's story—
But—I was telling a tune—I heard—


Not such a strain—the Church—baptizes—
When the last Saint—goes up the Aisles—
Not such a stanza splits the silence—
When the Redemption strikes her Bells—


Let me not spill—its smallest cadence—
Humming—for promise—when alone—
Humming—until my faint Rehearsal—
Drop into tune—around the Throne—

Besides the Autumn poets sing

131

Besides the Autumn poets sing
A few prosaic days
A little this side of the snow
And that side of the Haze-

A few incisive Mornings-
A few Ascetic EvesGone-
Mr. Bryant's "Golden Rod"-
And Mr. Thomson's "sheaves."

Still, is the bustle in the Brook-
Sealed are the spicy valves-
Mesmeric fingers softly touch
The Eyes of many Elves-

Perhaps a squirrel may remain-
My sentiments to share-
Grant me, Oh Lord, a sunny mind-
Thy windy will to bear!

Arcturus


"Arcturus" is his other name—
I'd rather call him "Star."
It's very mean of Science
To go and interfere!


I slew a worm the other day—
A "Savant" passing by
Murmured "Resurgam"—"Centipede"!
"Oh Lord—how frail are we"!


I pull a flower from the woods—
A monster with a glass
Computes the stamens in a breath—
And has her in a "class"!


Whereas I took the Butterfly
Aforetime in my hat—
He sits erect in "Cabinets"—
The Clover bells forgot.


What once was "Heaven"
Is "Zenith" now—
Where I proposed to go
When Time's brief masquerade was done
Is mapped and charted too.


What if the poles should frisk about
And stand upon their heads!
I hope I'm ready for "the worst"—
Whatever prank betides!


Perhaps the "Kingdom of Heaven's" changed—
I hope the "Children" there Won't be "new fashioned" when I come—
And laugh at me—and stare—


I hope the Father in the skies
Will lift his little girl—
Old fashioned—naught—everything—
Over the stile of "Pearl."

Angels, in the early morning

94

Angels, in the early morning
May be seen the Dews among,
Stooping-plucking-smiling-flying-
Do the Buds to them belong?


Angels, when the sun is hottest
May be seen the sands among,
Stooping-plucking-sighing-flying-
Parched the flowers they bear along.