Animals and Nature

Flowers—Well—if anybody

137

Flowers—Well—if anybody
Can the ecstasy define—
Half a transport—half a trouble—
With which flowers humble men:
Anybody find the fountain
From which floods so contra flow—
I will give him all the Daisies
Which upon the hillside blow.


Too much pathos in their faces
For a simple breast like mine—
Butterflies from St. Domingo
Cruising round the purple line—
Have a system of aesthetics—
Far superior to mine.

Deprived of other Banquet

773

Deprived of other Banquet,
I entertained Myself-
At first-a scant nutrition-
An insufficient Loaf-

But grown by slender addings
To so esteemed a size
'Tis sumptuous enough for me-
And almost to suffice

A Robin's famine able-
Red Pilgrim, He and I-
A Berry from our table
Reserve-for charity-

By The Sea

I started early, took my dog,
And visited the sea;
The mermaids in the basement
Came out to look at me.


And frigates in the upper floor
Extended hempen hands,
Presuming me to be a mouse
Aground, upon the sands.


But no man moved me till the tide
Went past my simple shoe,
And past my apron and my belt,
And past my bodice too,


And made as he would eat me up
As wholly as a dew
Upon a dandelion's sleeve -
And then I started too.


And he - he followed close behind;
I felt his silver heel
Upon my ankle, - then my shoes
Would overflow with pearl.


Until we met the solid town,
No man he seemed to know;
And bowing with a mighty look
At me, the sea withdrew.

Civilization-spurns-the Leopard!

492

Civilization-spurns-the Leopard!
Was the Leopard-bold?
Deserts-never rebuked her SatinEthiop-
her GoldTawny-
her Customs-
She was ConsciousSpotted-
her Dun Gown-
This was the Leopard's nature-SignorNeed-
a keeper-frown?

Pity-the Pard-that left her AsiaMemories-
of Palm-
Cannot be stifled-with Narcotic-
Nor suppressed-with Balm-

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-

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.

Before you thought of spring,

Before you thought of spring,
Except as a surmise,
You see, God bless his suddenness,
A fellow in the skies
Of independent hues,
A little weather-worn,
Inspiriting habiliments
Of indigo and brown.


With specimens of song,
As if for you to choose,
Discretion in the interval,
With gay delays he goes
To some superior tree
Without a single leaf,
And shouts for joy to nobody
But his seraphic self!

Because the Bee may blameless hum

869

Because the Bee may blameless hum
For Thee a Bee do I become
List even unto Me.

Because the Flowers unafraid
May lift a look on thine, a Maid
Alway a Flower would be.

Nor Robins, Robins need not hide
When Thou upon their Crypts intrude
So Wings bestow on Me
Or Petals, or a Dower of Buzz
That Bee to ride, or Flower of Furze
I that way worship Thee.

Bee! I'm expecting you!

1035

Bee! I'm expecting you!
Was saying Yesterday
To Somebody you know
That you were due-

The Frogs got Home last Week-
Are settled, and at work-
Birds, mostly back-
The Clover warm and thick


You'll get my Letter by
The seventeenth; Reply
Or better, be with me-
Yours, Fly.

Beauty-be not caused-It Is

516

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-

As the Starved Maelstrom laps the Navies

872

As the Starved Maelstrom laps the Navies
As the Vulture teased
Forces the Broods in lonely Valleys
As the Tiger eased

By but a Crumb of Blood, fasts Scarlet
Till he meet a Man
Dainty adorned with Veins and Tissues
And partakes-his Tongue

Cooled by the Morsel for a moment
Grows a fiercer thing
Till he esteem his Dates and Cocoa
A Nutrition mean

I, of a finer Famine
Deem my Supper dry
For but a Berry of Domingo
And a Torrid Eye.

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.

All these my banners be

22

All these my banners be.
I sow my pageantry
In May-
It rises train by train-
Then sleeps in state again-
My chancel-all the plain

Today.

To lose-if one can find again-
To miss-if one shall meet-
The Burglar cannot rob-then-
The Broker cannot cheat.
So build the hillocks gaily
Thou little spade of mine
Leaving nooks for Daisy
And for Columbine-
You and I the secret
Of the Crocus know-
Let us chant it softly"
There is no more snow!"

To him who keeps an Orchis' heart-
The swamps are pink with June.

A Route of Evanescence

A Route of Evanescence
With a revolving Wheel--
A Resonance of Emerald--
A Rush of Cochineal--
And every Blossom on the Bush
Adjusts its tumbled Head--
The mail from Tunis, probably,
An easy Morning's Ride--

A little road not made man

A little road not made of man,
Enabled of the eye,
Accessible to thill of bee,
Or cart of butterfly.


If town it have, beyond itself,
'T is that I cannot say;
I only sigh,--no vehicle
Bears me along that way.

A Dying Tiger-moaned for Drink

566

A Dying Tiger-moaned for Drink-
I hunted all the Sand-
I caught the Dripping of a Rock
And bore it in my Hand-

His Mighty Balls-in death were thick-
But searching-I could see
A Vision on the Retina
Of Water-and of me


'Twas not my blame-who sped too slow'
Twas not his blame-who died
While I was reaching him-
But 'twas-the fact that He was dead-

"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."

What Uncle Rob Says

Uncle Rob says,
That once on a time the fire flies
Were stars with the others up in the skies.


They used to shimmer, and dance and play,
Night after night in the Milky Way.


But when their papa, the stern old Sun
Said 'off to bed with you every one,'


These bold little stars refused to obey,
'Let's hide in that cloud and then run away.'


'Let's run to the earth,' these bad stars said
'We are quite too old to be sent to bed.'


So then they were exiled out of the skies,
And that's how we came with the fire flies,
So Uncle Rob says.

Voice of the Voiceless

I am the Voice of the Voiceless
Through me the dumb shall speak
Till the world's deaf ear be made to hear
The wrongs of the wordless weak.
Oh shame on the mothers of mortals
Who do not stoop to teach
The sorrow that lies in dear dumb eyes
The sorrow that has no speech.
From street, from cage, from kennel
From stable and from zoo
The wall of my tortured kin proclaims the sin
Of the mighty against the frail.
But I am my brother's keeper
And I shall fight their fight
And speak the word for beast and bird
Till the world shall set things right.

The Swan Of Dijon

I was in Dijon when the war's wild blast
Was at its loudest; when there was no sound
From dawn to dawn, save soldiers marching past,
Or rattle of their wagons in the street.
When every engine whistle would repeat
Persistently, with meaning tense, profound,
'We carry men to slaughter' or 'we bring
Remnants of men back as war's offering.'


And there in Dijon, the out-gazing eye
Grew weary of the strife-suggesting scene;
But, searching, found one quiet spot hard by
Where war was not; a little lake whereon
Moved leisurely a stately, tranquil swan,
Majestic and imposing, yet serene.


I was in Dijon, when no sound or sight
Woke thoughts of peace, save this one speck of white,
Sailing 'neath skies of menace, unafraid
While silver fountains for his pleasure played.
Dear Swan of Dijon, it was your good part
To rest a tired heart.

The Needle and Thread

The Needle and Thread one day were wed,
The Thimble acted as priest,
A paper of Pins, and the Scissors twins
Were among the guests at the feast.


That dandy trim the Bodkin slim
Danced with Miss Tape-measure,
But he stepped on her trail, and she called him 'a whale,'
And that put an end to their pleasure.


Wrinkled and fat the Beeswax sat
And talked with the Needle-case.
'I am glad,' she said, 'that my niece, the Thread,
Has married into this race.


'Her mother, the Spool, was a dull old fool,
And the Needle and Thread were shy;
The result you see came all through me,
I taught her to catch his eye.'


The Emery-ball just there had a fall-
She had danced too long at one time,
And that put a stop to the merry hop,
And that brings an end to my rhyme.


The groom and the bride took their wedding ride
Down a long white-seam to the shore,
And the guests all said there never was wed
So fair a couple before.

The Hammock's Complaint

Who thinks how desolate and strange
To me must seem the autumn's change,
When housed in attic or in chest,
A lonely and unwilling guest,
I lie through nights of bleak December,
And think in silence, and remember.


I think of hempen fields, where I
Once played with insects floating by,
And joyed alike in sun and rain,
Unconscious of approaching pain.
I dwell upon my later lot,
Where, swung in some secluded spot
Between two tried and trusted trees,
All summer long I wooed the breeze.
With song of bee and call of bird
And lover's secrets overheard,
And sight and scent of blooming flowers,
To fill the happy sunlight's hours.
When verdant fields grow bare and brown,
When forest leaves come raining down,
When frost has mated with the weather
And all the birds go south together,
When drying boats turn up their keels,
Who wonders how the hammock feels?

Summer Song

The meadow lark’s trill and the brown thrush’s whistle
From morning to evening fill all the sweet air,

And my heart is as light as the down of a thistle –
The world is so bright and the earth is so fair.

There is life in the wood, there is bloom on the meadow;
The air drops with songs that the merry birds sing.

The sunshine has won, in the battle with shadow,
And she’s dressed the glad earth with robes of the spring.

The bee leaves his hive for the field of red clover
And the vale where the daisies bloom white as the snow,

And a mantle of warm yellow sunshine hangs over
The calm little pond, where the pale lillies grow.

In the woodland beyond it, a thousand gay voices
Are singing in chorus some jubilant air.

The bird and the bee and all nature rejoices,
The world is so bright, and the earth is so fair.

I am glad as a child, in this beautiful weather;
I have tossed all my burdens and trials away;

My heart is as light – yes, as light as a feather; I
am care-free, and careless, and happy to-day.

Can it be there approaches a dark, dreary to-morrow?
Can shadows e’er fall on this beautiful earth?

Ah! To-day is my own! No forebodings of sorrow
Shall darken my skies, or shall dampen my mirth.

Robin's Mistake

What do you think Red Robin
Found by a mow of hay?
Why, a flask brimful of liquor,
That the mowers brought that day
To slake their thirst in the hayfield.
And Robin he shook his head:
'Now, I wonder what they call it,
And how it tastes?' he said.


'I have seen the mowers drink it-
Why isn't it good for me?
So I'll just draw out the stopper
And get at the stuff, and see!'
But alas! for the curious Robin,
One draught, and he burned his throat
From his bill to his poor crop's lining,
And he could not utter a note.


And his head grew light and dizzy,
And he staggered left and right,
Tipped over the flask of brandy,
And spilled it, every mite.
But after awhile he sobered,
And quietly flew away,
And he never has tasted liquor,
Or touched it, since that day.


But I heard him say to his kindred.
In the course of a friendly chat,
'These men think they are above us,
Yet they drink such stuff as that!
Oh, the poor degraded creatures!
I am glad I am only a bird!'
Then he flew up over the meadow,
And that was all I heard.