Soul

What if I say I shall not wait!

277

What if I say I shall not wait!
What if I burst the fleshly Gate-
And pass escaped-to thee!

What if I file this Mortal-off-
See where it hurt me-That's enough-
And wade in Liberty!

They cannot take me-any more!
Dungeons can call-and Guns implore
Unmeaning-now-to me-

As laughter-was-an hour ago-
Or Laces-or a Travelling Show-
Or who died-yesterday!

Wait till the Majesty of Death

171

Wait till the Majesty of Death
Invests so mean a brow!
Almost a powdered Footman
Might dare to touch it now!


Wait till in Everlasting Robes
That Democrat is dressed,
Then prate about "Preferment"-
And "Station," and the rest!


Around this quiet Courtier
Obsequious Angels wait!
Full royal is his Retinue!
Full purple is his state!


A Lord, might dare to lift the Hat
To such a Modest Clay
Since that My Lord, "the Lord of Lords"
Receives unblushingly!

Upon Concluded Lives

735

Upon Concluded Lives
There's nothing cooler falls-
Than Life's sweet Calculations-
The mixing Bells and Palls-

Make Lacerating Tune-
To Ears the Dying Side'
Tis Coronal-and FuneralSaluting-
in the Road-

Unto Me? I do not know you—

"Unto Me?" I do not know you—
Where may be your House?


"I am Jesus—Late of Judea—
Now—of Paradise"—


Wagons—have you—to convey me?
This is far from Thence—


"Arms of Mine—sufficient Phaeton—
Trust Omnipotence"—


I am spotted—"I am Pardon"—
I am small—"The Least
Is esteemed in Heaven the Chiefest—
Occupy my House"—

Unit, like Death, for Whom?

408

Unit, like Death, for Whom?
True, like the Tomb,
Who tells no secret
Told to Him-
The Grave is strict-
Tickets admit
Just two-the Bearer-
And the Borne-
And seat-just One-
The Living-tell-
The Dying-but a Syllable-
The Coy Dead-None-
No Chatter-here-no tea-
So Babbler, and Bohea-stay there-
But Gravity-and Expectation-and Fear-
A tremor just, that All's not sure.

Undue Significance a starving man attaches

439

Undue Significance a starving man attaches
To Food-
Far off-He sighs-and therefore-Hopeless-
And therefore-Good


Partaken-it relieves-indeed-
But proves us
That Spices fly
In the Receipt-It was the Distance-
Was Savory-

Uncertain lease—develops lustre

857

Uncertain lease—develops lustre
On Time
Uncertain Grasp, appreciation
Of Sum—

The shorter Fate—is oftener the chiefest
Because
Inheritors upon a tenure
Prize—

Two—were immortal twice

800

Two—were immortal twice—
The privilege of few—
Eternity—obtained—in Time—
Reversed Divinity—


That our ignoble Eyes
The quality conceive
Of Paradise superlative—
Through their Comparative.

Two Travellers perishing in Snow

933

Two Travellers perishing in Snow
The Forests as they froze
Together heard them strengthening
Each other with the words

That Heaven if Heaven-must contain
What Either left behind
And then the cheer too solemn grew
For language, and the wind

Long steps across the features took
That Love had touched the Morn
With reverential Hyacinth-
The taleless Days went on

Till Mystery impatient drew
And those They left behind
Led absent, were procured of Heaven
As Those first furnished, said-

Two butterflies went out at noon

Two butterflies went out at noon
And waltzed above a stream,
Then stepped straight through the firmament
And rested on a beam;


And then together bore away
Upon a shining sea,--
Though never yet, in any port
Their coming mentioned be.


If spoken by the distant bird,
If met in ether sea
By frigate or by merchantman,
Report was not to me.

'Twas warm—at first—like Us

519

'Twas warm—at first—like Us—
Until there crept upon
A Chill—like frost upon a Glass—
Till all the scene—be gone.


The Forehead copied Stone—
The Fingers grew too cold
To ache—and like a Skater's Brook—
The busy eyes—congealed—


It straightened—that was all—
It crowded Cold to Cold—
It multiplied indifference—
As Pride were all it could—


And even when with Cords—
'Twas lowered, like a Weight—
It made no Signal, nor demurred,
But dropped like Adamant.

'Twas like a Maelstrom, with a notch

414

'Twas like a Maelstrom, with a notch,
That nearer, every Day,
Kept narrowing its boiling Wheel
Until the Agony


Toyed coolly with the final inch
Of your delirious Hem-
And you dropt, lost,
When something broke-
And let you from a Dream-


As if a Goblin with a Gauge-
Kept measuring the Hours-
Until you felt your Second
Weigh, helpless, in his Paws-


And not a Sinew-stirred-could help,
And sense was setting numb-
When God-remembered-and the Fiend
Let go, then, Overcome-


As if your Sentence stood-pronounced-
And you were frozen led
From Dungeon's luxury of Doubt
To Gibbets, and the Dead-


And when the Film had stitched your eyes
A Creature gasped "Reprieve"!
Which Anguish was the utterest-then-
To perish, or to live?

Twas Crisis—All the length had passed

'Twas Crisis—All the length had passed—
That dull—benumbing time
There is in Fever or Event—
And now the Chance had come—


The instant holding in its claw
The privilege to live
Or warrant to report the Soul
The other side the Grave.


The Muscles grappled as with leads
That would not let the Will—
The Spirit shook the Adamant—
But could not make it feel.


The Second poised—debated—shot—
Another had begun—
And simultaneously, a Soul
Escaped the House unseen—

Too little way the House must lie

911

Too little way the House must lie
From every Human Heart
That holds in undisputed Lease
A white inhabitant-

Too narrow is the Right between-
Too imminent the chance-
Each Consciousness must emigrate
And lose its neighbor once-

To my small Hearth His fire came

638

To my small Hearth His fire came-
And all my House aglow
Did fan and rock, with sudden light'
Twas Sunrise-'twas the Sky-

Impanelled from no Summer brief-
With limit of Decay'
Twas Noon-without the News of Night-
Nay, Nature, it was Day-

To make One's Toilette-after Death

485

To make One's Toilette-after Death
Has made the Toilette cool
Of only Taste we cared to please
Is difficult, and still


That's easier-than Braid the Hair-
And make the Bodice gay-
When eyes that fondled it are wrenched
By Decalogues-away-

To love thee Year by Year

434

To love thee Year by Year-
May less appear
Than sacrifice, and cease-
However, dear,
Forever might be short, I thought to show-
And so I pieced it, with a flower, now.

To learn the Transport by the Pain

167

To learn the Transport by the Pain
As Blind Men learn the sun!
To die of thirst-suspecting
That Brooks in Meadows run!


To stay the homesick-homesick feet
Upon a foreign shore-
Haunted by native lands, the while-
And blue-beloved air!


This is the Sovereign Anguish!
This-the signal woe!
These are the patient "Laureates"
Whose voices-trained-below-


Ascend in ceaseless Carol-
Inaudible, indeed,
To us-the duller scholars
Of the Mysterious Bard!

To interrupt His Yellow Plan

591

To interrupt His Yellow Plan
The Sun does not allow
Caprices of the Atmosphere-
And even when the Snow

Heaves Balls of Specks, like Vicious Boy
Directly in His Eye-
Does not so much as turn His Head
Busy with Majesty


'Tis His to stimulate the Earth-
And magnetize the Sea-
And bind Astronomy, in place,
Yet Any passing by

Would deem Ourselves-the busier
As the Minutest Bee
That rides-emits a Thunder-
A Bomb-to justify-

To fight aloud, is very brave

126

To fight aloud, is very brave-
But gallanter, I know
Who charge within the bosom
The Cavalry of Woe-

Who win, and nations do not see-
Who fall-and none observe-
Whose dying eyes, no Country
Regards with patriot love-

We trust, in plumed procession
For such, the Angels go-
Rank after Rank, with even feet-
And Uniforms of Snow.

To hang our head-ostensibly

105

To hang our head-ostensibly-
And subsequent, to find
That such was not the posture
Of our immortal mind-

Affords the sly presumption
That in so dense a fuzzYou-
too-take Cobweb attitudes
Upon a plane of Gauze!

'Tis true—They shut me in the Cold

538

'Tis true—They shut me in the Cold—
But then—Themselves were warm
And could not know the feeling 'twas—
Forget it—Lord—of Them—


Let not my Witness hinder Them
In Heavenly esteem—
No Paradise could be—Conferred
Through Their beloved Blame—


The Harm They did—was short—And since
Myself—who bore it—do—
Forgive Them—Even as Myself—
Or else—forgive not me—

To die

To die--takes just a little while--
They say it doesn't hurt-It's
only fainter--by degrees--
And then--it's out of sight--

A darker Ribbon--for a Day--
A Crape upon the Hat--
And then the pretty sunshine comes--
And helps us to forget--

The absent--mystic--creature--
That but for love of us--
Had gone to sleep--that soundest time--
Without the weariness--

'Tis so much joy! 'Tis so much joy!

172

'Tis so much joy! 'Tis so much joy!
If I should fail, what poverty!
And yet, as poor as I,
Have ventured all upon a throw!
Have gained! Yes! Hesitated so-
This side the Victory!


Life is but Life! And Death, but Death!
Bliss is, but Bliss, and Breath but Breath!
And if indeed I fail,
At least, to know the worst, is sweet!
Defeat means nothing but Defeat,
No drearier, can befall!


And if I gain! Oh Gun at Sea!
Oh Bells, that in the Steeples be!
At first, repeat it slow!
For Heaven is a different thing,
Conjectured, and waked sudden in-
And might extinguish me!