Poems List
Would you like summer? Taste of ours
691
Would you like summer? Taste of ours.
Spices? Buy here!
Ill! We have berries, for the parching!
Weary! Furloughs of down!
Perplexed! Estates of violet trouble ne'er looked on!
Captive! We bring reprieve of roses!
Fainting! Flasks of air!
Even for Death, a fairy medicine.
But, which is it, sir?
Wolfe demanded during dying
678
Wolfe demanded during dying
"Which obtain the Day"?
"General, the British"-"Easy"
Answered Wolfe "to die"
Montcalm, his opposing Spirit
Rendered with a smile
"Sweet" said he "my own Surrender
Liberty's beguile"
With thee, in the Desert
209
With thee, in the Desert-
With thee in the thirst-
With thee in the Tamarind wood-
Leopard breathes-at last!
Within my reach!
90
Within my reach!
I could have touched!
I might have chanced that way!
Soft sauntered thro' the village-
Sauntered as soft away!
So unsuspected Violets
Within the meadows go-
Too late for striving fingers
That passed, an hour ago!
Why-do they shut Me out of Heaven?
248
Why-do they shut Me out of Heaven?
Did I sing-too loud?
But-I can say a little "Minor"
Timid as a Bird!
Wouldn't the Angels try meJust-
once-moreJust-
see-if I troubled them-
But don't-shut the door!
Oh, if I-were the Gentleman
In the "White Robe"-
And they-were the little Hand-that knockedCould-
I-forbid?
Wild Nights-Wild Nights!
249
Wild Nights-Wild Nights!
Were I with thee
Wild Nights should be
Our luxury!
Futile-the Winds-
To a Heart in port-
Done with the Compass-
Done with the Chart!
Rowing in Eden-
Ah, the Sea!
Might I but moor-Tonight-
In Thee!
Whose are the little beds, I asked
142
Whose are the little beds, I asked
Which in the valleys lie?
Some shook their heads, and others smiled-
And no one made reply.
Perhaps they did not hear, I said,
I will inquire again-
Whose are the beds-the tiny beds
So thick upon the plain?
'Tis Daisy, in the shortest-
A little further on-
Nearest the door-to wake the Ist-
Little Leontoden.
'Tis Iris, Sir, and Aster-
Anemone, and Bell-
Bartsia, in the blanket red-
And chubby Daffodil.
Meanwhile, at many cradles
Her busy foot she plied-
Humming the quaintest lullaby
That ever rocked a child.
Hush! Epigea wakens!
The Crocus stirs her lidsRhodora's
cheek is crimson,
She's dreaming of the woods!
Then turning from them reverent-
Their bedtime 'tis, she said-
The Bumble bees will wake them
When April woods are red.
Why do I love You, Sir?
"Why do I love" You, Sir?
Because—
The Wind does not require the Grass
To answer—Wherefore when He pass
She cannot keep Her place.
Because He knows—and
Do not You—
And We know not—
Enough for Us
The Wisdom it be so—
The Lightning—never asked an Eye
Wherefore it shut—when He was by—
Because He knows it cannot speak—
And reasons not contained—
—Of Talk—
There be—preferred by Daintier Folk—
The Sunrise—Sire—compelleth Me—
Because He's Sunrise—and I see—
Therefore—Then—
I love Thee—
Who Court obtain within Himself
803
Who Court obtain within Himself
Sees every Man a King-
And Poverty of Monarchy
Is an interior thing-
No Man depose
Whom Fate Ordain-
And Who can add a Crown
To Him who doth continual
Conspire against His Own
Who never lost, are unprepared
73
Who never lost, are unprepared
A Coronet to find!
Who never thirsted
Flagons, and Cooling Tamarind!
Who never climbed the weary league-
Can such a foot explore
The purple territories
On Pizarro's shore?
How many Legions overcome-
The Emperor will say?
How many Colors taken
On Revolution Day?
How many Bullets bearest?
Hast Thou the Royal scar?
Angels! Write "Promoted"
On this Soldier's brow!
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