Change and Transformation

So from the mould

66

So from the mould
Scarlet and Gold
Many a Bulb will rise-
Hidden away, cunningly, From sagacious eyes.


So from Cocoon
Many a Worm
Leap so Highland gay,
Peasants like me,
Peasants like Thee
Gaze perplexedly!

Our share of night to bear

113

Our share of night to bear-
Our share of morning-
Our blank in bliss to fill
Our blank in scorning-


Here a star, and there a star,
Some lose their way!
Here a mist, and there a mist,
Afterwards-Day!

Nature—sometimes sears a Sapling

314

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—

Me, change! Me, alter!

268

Me, change! Me, alter!
Then I will, when on the Everlasting Hill
A Smaller Purple grows-
At sunset, or a lesser glow
Flickers upon Cordillera-
At Day's superior close!

Like her the Saints retire

60

Like her the Saints retire,
In their Chapeaux of fire,
Martial as she!

Like her the Evenings steal
Purple and Cochineal
After the Day!

"Departed"-both-they say!

i.e. gathered away,
Not found,
Argues the Aster still-
Reasons the Daffodil
Profound!

I'm "wife"-I've finished that

199

I'm "wife"-I've finished that-
That other stateI'm
Czar-I'm "Woman" nowIt's
safer so-


How odd the Girl's life looks
Behind this soft Eclipse-
I think that Earth feels so
To folks in Heaven-now-


This being comfort-then
That other kind-was pain-
But why compare?
I'm "Wife"! Stop there!

I could not prove the Years had feet

563

I could not prove the Years had feet-
Yet confident they run
Am I, from symptoms that are past
And Series that are done-

I find my feet have further Goals-
I smile upon the Aims
That felt so ample-YesterdayToday's-
have vaster claims-

I do not doubt the self I was
Was competent to me-
But something awkward in the fit-
Proves that-outgrown-I see-

He was weak, and I was strong—then

190

He was weak, and I was strong—then—
So He let me lead him in—
I was weak, and He was strong then—
So I let him lead me—Home.


'Twasn't far—the door was near—
'Twasn't dark—for He went—too—
'Twasn't loud, for He said nought—
That was all I cared to know.


Day knocked—and we must part—
Neither—was strongest—now—
He strove—and I strove—too—
We didn't do it—tho'!

Don't put up my Thread and Needle

617

Don't put up my Thread and NeedleI'll
begin to Sew
When the Birds begin to whistle-
Better Stitches-so-

These were bent-my sight got crooked-
When my mind-is plain
I'll do seams-a Queen's endeavor
Would not blush to own


Hems-too fine for Lady's tracing
To the sightless KnotTucks-
of dainty interspersion-
Like a dotted Dot-

Leave my Needle in the furrow-
Where I put it down-
I can make the zigzag stitches
Straight-when I am strong-

Till then-dreaming I am sewing
Fetch the seam I missedCloser-
so I-at my sleeping-
Still surmise I stitch-

Crumbling is not an instant's Act

997

Crumbling is not an instant's Act
A fundamental pause
Dilapidation's processes
Are organized Decays.

'Tis first a Cobweb on the Soul
A Cuticle of Dust
A Borer in the Axis
An Elemental Rust-

Ruin is formal-Devil's work
Consecutive and slow-
Fail in an instant, no man did
Slipping-is Crash's law.

As imperceptibly as Grief

1540

As imperceptibly as Grief
The Summer lapsed away-
Too imperceptible at last
To seem like Perfidy-
A Quietness distilled
As Twilight long begun,
Or Nature spending with herself
Sequestered Afternoon-
The Dusk drew earlier in-
The Morning foreign shone-
A courteous, yet harrowing Grace,
As Guest, that would be gone-
And thus, without a Wing
Or service of a Keel
Our Summer made her light escape
Into the Beautiful.

As Frost is best conceived

951

As Frost is best conceived
By force of its Result-
Affliction is inferred
By subsequent effect-

If when the sun reveal,
The Garden keep the Gash-
If as the Days resume
The wilted countenance

Cannot correct the crease
Or counteract the stain-
Presumption is Vitality
Was somewhere put in twain.

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."

All forgot for recollecting

966

All forgot for recollecting
Just a paltry One-
All forsook, for just a Stranger's
New Accompanying-

Grace of Wealth, and Grace of Station
Less accounted than
An unknown Esteem possessingEstimate-
Who can-

Home effaced-Her faces dwindledNature-
altered smallSun-
if shone-or Storm-if shattered-
Overlooked I all


Dropped-my fate-a timid Pebble-
In thy bolder SeaProve-
me-Sweet-if I regret it-
Prove Myself-of Thee-

Adrift! A little boat adrift!

30

Adrift! A little boat adrift!
And night is coming down!
Will no one guide a little boat
Unto the nearest town?

So Sailors say-on yesterday-
Just as the dusk was brown
One little boat gave up its strife
And gurgled down and down.

So angels say-on yesterday-
Just as the dawn was red
One little boat-o'erspent with gales-
Retrimmed its masts-redecked its sails-
And shot-exultant on!

A still—Volcano—Life

601

A still—Volcano—Life—
That flickered in the night—
When it was dark enough to do
Without erasing sight—


A quiet—Earthquake Style—
Too subtle to suspect
By natures this side Naples—
The North cannot detect


The Solemn—Torrid—Symbol—
The lips that never lie—
Whose hissing Corals part—and shut—
And Cities—ooze away—

A darting fear-a pomp-a tear

87

A darting fear-a pomp-a tear-
A waking on a morn
To find that what one waked for,
Inhales the different dawn.

"Arcturus" is his other name

70

"Arcturus" is his other nameI'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."

The Universal Route

As we journey along, with a laugh and a song,
We see, on youth’s flower-decked slope,

Like a beacon of light, shining fair on the sight,
The beautiful Station of Hope.

But the wheels of old Time roll along as we climb,
And our youth speeds away on the years;

And with hearts that are numb with life’s sorrows we come
To the mist-covered Station of Tears.

Still onward we pass, where the milestones, alas!
Are tombs of our dead, to the West,

Where glitters and gleams, in the dying sunbeams,
The sweet, silent Station of Rest.

All rest is but change, and no grave can estrange
The soul from its Parent above;

And, scorning the rod, it soars back to God,
To the limitless City of Love.

The Two Glasses

There sat two glasses, filled to the brim,
On a rich man's table, rim to rim.
One was ruddy and red as blood,
And one was clear as the crystal flood.


Said the glass of wine to his paler brother,
"Let us tell tales of the past to each other;
I can tell of banquet, and revel, and mirth,
Where I was a king, for I ruled in might;
For the proudest and grandest souls on earth
Fell under my touch, as though struck with blight.
From the heads of kings I have torn the crown;
From the heights of fame I have hurled men down.
I have blasted many an honored name;
I have taken virtue and given shame;
I have tempted the youth with a sip, a taste,
That has made his future a barren waste.
Far greater than any king am I,
Or than any army beneath the sky.
I have made the arm of the driver fail,
And sent the train from the iron rail.
I have made good ships go down at sea,
And the shrieks of the lost were sweet to me.
Fame, strength, wealth, genius before me fall;
Ho, ho! pale brother," said the wine,
"Can you boast of deeds as great as mine?"


Said the water-glass: "I cannot boast
Of a king dethroned, or a murdered host,
But I can tell of hearts that were sad
By my crystal drops made bright and glad;
Of thirsts I have quenched, and brows I have laved;
Of hands I have cooled, and souls I have saved.
I have leaped through the valley, dashed down the mountain,
Slept in the sunshine, and dripped from the fountain.
I have burst my cloud-fetters, and dropped from the sky,
And everywhere gladdened the prospect and eye;
I have eased the hot forehead of fever and pain;
I have made the parched meadows grow fertile with grain.
I can tell of the powerful wheel of the mill,
That ground out the flower, and turned at my will.
I can tell of manhood debased by you,
That I have uplifted and crowned anew;
I cheer, I help, I strengthen and aid;
I gladden the heart of man and maid;
I set the wine-chained captive free,
And all are better for knowing me."


These are the tales they told each other,
The glass of wine and its paler brother,
As they sat together, filled to the brim,
On a rich man's table, rim to rim.

That's The Way

Just a little every dayThat's
the way!
Seeds in darkness swell and grow,
Tiny blades push through the snow;
Never any flower of May
Leaps to blossom in a burst,
Slowly, slowly, as the first,
That's the way.
Just a little every day.


Just a little every dayThat's
the way,
Children learn to read and write
Bit by bit and mite by mite,
Never any one I say
Leaps to knowledge and its power;
Slowly, slowly, hour by hour,
That's the way!
Just a little every day.

Perfectness


All perfect things are saddening in effect.
The autumn wood robed in its scarlet clothes,
The matchless tinting on the royal rose
Whose velvet leaf by no least flaw is flecked,
Love's supreme moment, when the soul unchecked
Soars high as heaven, and its best rapture knows—
These hold a deeper pathos than our woes,
Since they leave nothing better to expect.
Resistless change, when powerless to improve,
Can only mar. The gold will pale to gray;
Nothing remains tomorrow as to-day;
The lose will not seem quite so fait, and love
Must find its measures of delight made less.
Ah, how imperfect is all Perfectness!

One Woman's History

'The maiden free, the maiden wed.
Can never, never be the same,
A new life springs from out the dead.
And with the speaking of a name-
A breath upon the marriage bed,
She finds herself a something new.


'Where lay the shallows of the maid
No plummet line the wife can sound;
Where round the sunny islands played
The pulses of the great profound
Lies low the treacherous everglade.


'A wife is like an unknown sea,
Least known to him who thinks he knows
Where all the shores of Promise be,
And where the islands of Repose-
And where the rocks that he must flee.'

Love Will Wane

When your love begins to wane,
Spare me from the cruel pain
Of all speech that tells me so Spare
me words, for I shall know,

By the half-averted eyes,
By the breast that no more sighs
By the rapture I shall miss
From your strangely-altered kiss;

By the arms that still enfold
But have lost their clinging hold,
And, too willing, let me go,
I shall know, love, I shall know.

Bitter will the knowledge be,
Bitterer than death to me.
Yet, 'twill come to me some day,
For it is sad world's way.

Make no vows - vows cannot bind
Changing hearts of wayward mind.
Men grow weary of a bliss
Passionate and fond as this.

Love will wane. But I shall know,
If you do not tell me so.
Know it, tho' you smile and say,
That you love me more each day.

Know it by the inner sight
That forever sees aright.
Words could not but increase my woe,
And without them, I shall know.