Poems List
Those who have been in the Grave the longest
922
Those who have been in the Grave the longest-
Those who begin Today-
Equally perish from our Practise-
Death is the other way-
Foot of the Bold did least attempt itIt-
is the White Exploit-
Once to achieve, annuls the power
Once to communicate-
Tho' my destiny be Fustian
163
Tho' my destiny be Fustian-
Hers be damask fine-
Tho' she wear a silver apron-
I, a less divine-
Still, my little Gypsy being
I would far prefer,
Still, my little sunburnt bosom
To her Rosier,
For, when Frosts, their punctual fingers
On her forehead lay,
You and I, and Dr. Holland,
Bloom Eternally!
Roses of a steadfast summer
In a steadfast land,
Where no Autumn lifts her pencil-
And no Reapers stand!
This was in the White of the Year
995
This was in the White of the YearThat-
was in the Green-
Drifts were as difficult then to think
As Daisies now to be seen-
Looking back is best that is left
Or if it be-before-
Retrospection is Prospect's half,
Sometimes, almost more.
This-is the land-the Sunset washes
266
This-is the land-the Sunset washesThese-
are the Banks of the Yellow Sea-
Where it rose-or whither it rushesThese-
are the Western Mystery!
Night after Night
Her purple traffic
Strews the landing with Opal BalesMerchantmen-
poise upon HorizonsDip-
and vanish like Orioles!
This that would greet-an hour ago
778
This that would greet-an hour ago-
Is quaintest Distance-now-
Had it a Guest from Paradise-
Nor glow, would it, nor bow-
Had it a notice from the Noon
Nor beam would it nor warm-
Match me the Silver Reticence-
Match me the Solid Calm-
This Merit hath the worst
979
This Merit hath the worst-
It cannot be again-
When Fate hath taunted last
And thrown Her furthest Stone-
The Maimed may pause, and breathe,
And glance securely round-
The Deer attracts no further
Than it resists-the Hound-
This heart that broke so long
145
This heart that broke so long-
These feet that never flagged-
This faith that watched for star in vain,
Give gently to the dead-
Hound cannot overtake the Hare
That fluttered panting, here-
Nor any schoolboy rob the nest
Tenderness builded there.
This is my letter to the world,
This is my letter to the world,
That never wrote to me,--
The simple news that Nature told,
With tender majesty.
Her message is committed
To hands I cannot see;
For love of her, sweet countrymen,
Judge tenderly of me!
This Consciousness that is aware
822
This Consciousness that is aware
Of Neighbors and the Sun
Will be the one aware of Death
And that itself alone
Is traversing the interval
Experience between
And most profound experiment
Appointed unto Men-
How adequate unto itself
Its properties shall be
Itself unto itself and none
Shall make discovery.
Adventure most unto itself
The Soul condemned to be-
Attended by a single Hound
Its own identity.
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