Longing and Absence

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--

I bring an unaccustomed wine

132

I bring an unaccustomed wine
To lips long parching
Next to mine,
And summon them to drink;


Crackling with fever, they Essay,
I turn my brimming eyes away,
And come next hour to look.


The hands still hug the tardy glass-
The lips I would have cooled, alas-
Are so superfluous Cold-


I would as soon attempt to warm
The bosoms where the frost has lain
Ages beneath the mould-


Some other thirsty there may be
To whom this would have pointed me
Had it remained to speak-


And so I always bear the cup
If, haply, mine may be the drop
Some pilgrim thirst to slake-


If, haply, any say to me
"Unto the little, unto me,"
When I at last awake.

How sick—to wait—in any place—but thine

368

How sick—to wait—in any place—but thine—
I knew last night—when someone tried to twine—
Thinking—perhaps—that I looked tired—or alone—
Or breaking—almost—with unspoken pain—


And I turned—ducal—
That right—was thine—
One port—suffices—for a Brig—like mine—


Ours be the tossing—wild though the sea—
Rather than a Mooring—unshared by thee.
Ours be the Cargo—unladed—here—
Rather than the "spicy isles—"
And thou—not there—

Heart! We will forget him!

47

Heart! We will forget him!
You and I-tonight!
You may forget the warmth he gave-
I will forget the light!


When you have done, pray tell me
That I may straight begin!
Haste! lest while you're lagging
I remember him!

Going to him! Happy letter! Tell him--

Going to him! Happy letter! Tell him--
Tell him the page I didn't write;
Tell him I only said the syntax,
And left the verb and the pronoun out.


Tell him just how the fingers hurried
Then how they waded, slow, slow, slow-
And then you wished you had eyes in your pages,
So you could see what moved them so.


'Tell him it wasn't a practised writer,
You guessed, from the way the sentence toiled;
You could hear the bodice tug, behind you,
As if it held but the might of a child;
You almost pitied it, you, it worked so.
Tell him--No, you may quibble there,
For it would split his heart to know it,
And then you and I were silenter.


'Tell him night finished before we finished
And the old clock kept neighing 'day!'
And you got sleepy and begged to be ended--
What could it hinder so, to say?
Tell him just how she sealed you, cautious
But if he ask where you are hid
Until to-morrow,--happy letter!
Gesture, coquette, and shake your head!'

Forget! The lady with the Amulet

438

Forget! The lady with the Amulet
Forget she wore it at her Heart
Because she breathed against
Was Treason twixt?

Deny! Did Rose her Bee-
For Privilege of Play
Or Wile of Butterfly
Or Opportunity-Her Lord away?

The lady with the Amulet-will face-
The Bee-in Mausoleum laid-
Discard his Bride-
But longer than the little Rill-
That cooled the Forehead of the Hill-
While Other-went the Sea to fill-
And Other-went to turn the MillI'll
do thy Will-

Except the Heaven had come so near

472

Except the Heaven had come so near-
So seemed to choose My Door-
The Distance would not haunt me so-
I had not hoped-before-

But just to hear the Grace depart-
I never thought to see-
Afflicts me with a Double loss'
Tis lost-and lost to me-

Empty my Heart, of Thee

587

Empty my Heart, of Thee-
Its single Artery-
Begin, and leave Thee out-
Simply Extinction's Date-

Much Billow hath the Sea-
One Baltic-They-
Subtract Thyself, in play,
And not enough of me
Is left-to put away"
Myself" meanth Thee-

Erase the Root-no TreeThee-
then-no me-
The Heavens strippedEternity's
vast pocket, picked-

Dying! To be afraid of thee

831

Dying! To be afraid of thee
One must to thine Artillery
Have left exposed a Friend-
Than thine old Arrow is a Shot
Delivered straighter to the Heart
The leaving Love behind.


Not for itself, the Dust is shy,
But, enemy, Beloved be
Thy Batteries divorce.
Fight sternly in a Dying eye
Two Armies, Love and Certainty
And Love and the Reverse.

Death Leaves Us homesick, Who Behind

Death leaves Us homesick, who behind,
Except that it is gone
Are ignorant of its Concern
As if it were not born.


Through all their former Places, we
Like Individuals go
Who something lost, the seeking for
Is all that's left them, now—

Bereaved of all, I went abroad

784

Bereaved of all, I went abroad-
No less bereaved was I
Upon a New Peninsula-
The Grave preceded me-

Obtained my Lodgings, ere myself-
And when I sought my Bed-
The Grave it was reposed upon
The Pillow for my Head-

I waked to find it first awake-
I rose-It followed me-
I tried to drop it in the Crowd-
To lose it in the Sea-

In Cups of artificial Drowse
To steep its shape away-
The Grave-was finished-but the Spade
Remained in Memory-

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-

Ah, Moon—and Star!

240

Ah, Moon—and Star!
You are very far—
But were no one
Farther than you—
Do you think I'd stop
For a Firmament—
Or a Cubit—or so?


I could borrow a Bonnet
Of the Lark—
And a Chamois' Silver Boot—
And a stirrup of an Antelope—
And be with you—Tonight!


But, Moon, and Star,
Though you're very far—
There is one—farther than you—
He—is more than a firmament—from Me—
So I can never go!

Absence disembodies—so does Death

860

Absence disembodies—so does Death
Hiding individuals from the Earth
Superposition helps, as well as love—
Tenderness decreases as we prove—

A Charm invests a face

421

A Charm invests a face
Imperfectly beheld-
The Lady date not lift her Veil
For fear it be dispelled-

But peers beyond her mesh-
And wishes-and denies-
Lest Interview-annul a want
That Image-satisfies-

When


I dwell in the western inland,
Afar from the sounding sea,
But I seem to hear it sobbing


And calling aloud to me,
And my heart cries out for the ocean
As a child for its mother's breast,
And I long to lie on its waters
And be lulled in its arms to rest.

I can close my eyes and fancy
That I hear its mighty roar,
And I see its blue waves splashing
And plunging against the shore;
And the white foam caps the billow,
And the sea-gulls wheel and cry,
And the cool wild wind is blowing,
And the ships go sailing by.

Oh, wonderful, mighty ocean!
When shall I ever stand,
Where my heart has gone already,
There on thy gleaming strand!
When shall I ever wander
Away from the inland west,
And strand by thy side, dear ocean,
And rock on thy heaving breast?

Two Loves

The woman he loved, while he dreamed of her,
Danced on till the stars grew dim,

But alone with her heart, from the world apart
Sat the woman who loved him.

The woman he worshipped only smiled
When he poured out his passionate love.

But the other somewhere, kissed her treasure most rare,
A book he had touched with his glove.

The woman he loved betrayed his trust,
And he wore the scars for life;

And he cared not, nor knew, that the other was true;
But no man called her his wife.

The woman he loved trod festal halls,
While they sang his funeral hymn,

But the sad bells tolled, ere the year was old,
For the woman that loved him.

Tired


I am tired to-night, and something,
The wind maybe, or the rain,
Or the cry of a bird in the copse outside,
Has brought back the past and its pain.
And I feel as I sit here thinking,
That the hand of a dead old June
Has reached out hold of my heart’s loose strings,
And is drawing them up in tune.

I am tired to-night, and I miss you,
And long for you, love, through tears;
And it seems but to-day that I saw you go –
You, who have been gone for years.
And I seem to be newly lonely –
I, who am so much alone;
And the strings of my heart are well in tune,
But they have not the same old tone.

I am tired; and that old sorrow
Sweeps down the bed of my soul,
As a turbulent river might suddenly break
Away from a dam’s control.
It beareth a wreck on its bosom,
A wreck with a snow-white sail,
And the hand on my heart-strings thrums away,
But they only respond with a wail.

Time And Love

Time flies. The swift hours hurry by
And speed us on to untried ways;

New seasons ripen, perish, die,
And yet love stays.

The old, old love – like sweet at first,
At last like bitter wine –

I know not if it blest or curst,
Thy life and mine.

Time flies. In vain our prayers, our tears,
We cannot tempt him to delays;

Down to the past he bears the years,
And yet love stays.

Through changing task and varying dream
We hear the same refrain,

As one can hear a plaintive theme
Run through each strain.

Time flies. He steals out pulsing youth,
He robs us of our care-free days,

He takes away our trust and truth,
And yet love stays.

O Time! take love! When love is vain,
When all its best joys die –

When only its regrets remain –
Let love, too, fly.

Through The Valley

(After James Thomson)

As I came through the Valley of Despair,
As I came through the valley, onmy sight,
More awful that the darkness of the night,

Shone glimpses of a Past that had been fair,
And memories of eyes that used to smile,
And wafts of perfume from a vanished isle,

As I came through the valley.

As I came through the valley I could see,
As I came through the valley, fair and far,
As drowning men look up and see a star,

The fading shore of my lost Used-to-be;
And like an arrow in my heart I heard
The last sad notes of Hope’s expiring bird,

As I came through the valley.

As I came through the valley desolate,
As I came through the valley, like a beam
Of lurid lightning I beheld a gleam

Of Love’s great eyes that now were full of hate.
Dear God! dear God! I could bear all but that;
But I fell down soul-stricken, dead, thereat,

As I came through the valley.

The Old Moon In The New Moon's Arms

The beautiful and slender young New Moon,
In trailing robes of pink and palest blue,
Swept close to Venus, and breathed low: 'A boon,
A precious boon, I ask, dear friend, of you.'

'O queen of light and beauty, you have known
The pangs of love - its passions and alarms;
Then grant me this one favour, let my own My
lost Old Moon be once more in my arms.'

Swift thro' the vapours and the golden mist The
Full Moon's shadowy shape shone on the night,
The New Moon reached out clasping arms and kissed
Her phantom lover in the whole world's sight.

The Land Of The Gone-Away Souls

Oh! that is a beautiful land, I wis,
The land of the Gone-away Souls.
Yes, a lovelier region by far than this
(Though this is a world most fair).
The goodliest goal of all good goals,
Else why do our friends stay there?


I walk in a world that is sweet with friends,
And earth I have ever held dear;
Yes, love with duty and beauty blends
To render the earth-place bright.
But faster and faster, year on year,
My comrades hurry from sight.


They hurry away to the Over-There,
And few of them say farewell;
Yes, they go away with a secret air
As if on a secret quest.
And they come not back to earth to tell
Why that land seems the best.


Messages come from the mystic sphere,
But few know the code of that land,
Yes, many the message but few who hear,
In the din of the world below,
Or hearing the message, can understand
Those truths which we long to know.


But it must be the goal of all good goals,
And I think of it more and more.
Yes, think of that land of the Gone-Away Souls
And its growing hosts of friends
Who will hail my bark when it touches shore
Where the last brief journey ends.

Smoke


Last summer, lazing by the sea,
I met a most entrancing creature,
Her black eyes quite bewildered me---
She had a Spanish cast of feature.


She often smoked a cigarette,
And did it in the cutest fashion.
Before a week passed by she set
My young heart in a raging passion.


I swore I loved her as my life,
I gave her gems (don't tell my tailor).
She promised to become my wife,
But whispered, 'Papa is my jailer.'


'We must be very sly, you see,
For Papa will not list to reason.
You must not come to call on me
Until he's gone from home a season.


'I'll send you word, now don't forget,
Take this as pledge, I will remember.'
She gave me a perfumed cigarette,
And turned and left me with September.


To-day she sent her 'cards' to me.
'My presence asked' to see her marry
That millionaire old banker C---
She has my 'presents,' so I'll tarry.


And still I feel a keen regret
(About the jewels that I gave her)
I've smoked the little cigarette---
It had a most delicious flavour.

Platonic


I knew it the first of the summer,
I knew it the same at the end,
That you and your love were plighted,
But couldn’t you be my friend?
Couldn’t we sit in the twilight,

Couldn’t we walk on the shore
With only a pleasant friendship
To bind us, and nothing more?


There was not a word of folly
Spoken between us two,
Though we lingered oft in the garden
Till the roses were wet with dew.
We touched on a thousand subjects –
The moon and the worlds above, -
And our talk was tinctured with science,
And everything else, save love.

A wholly Platonic friendship
You said I had proven to you

Could bind a man and a woman
The whole long season through,
With never a thought of flirting,

Though both were in their youth,
What would you have said, my lady,
If you had known the truth!

What would you have done, I wonder,

Had I gone on my knees to you
And told you my passionate story,
There in the dusk and the dew?


My burning, burdensome story,
Hidden and hushed so long –
My story of hopeless loving –
Say, would you have thought it wrong?

But I fought with my heart and conquered,
I hid my wound from sight;
You were going away in the morning,
And I said a calm goodnight.
But now when I sit in the twilight,
Or when I walk by the sea
That friendship, quite Platonic,
Comes surging over me.
And a passionate longing fills me
For the roses, the dusk, the dew;
For the beautiful summer vanished,
For the moonlight walks – and you.