Life and Existence

Truth—is as old as God

836

Truth—is as old as God—
His Twin identity
And will endure as long as He
A Co-Eternity—


And perish on the Day
Himself is borne away
From Mansion of the Universe
A lifeless Deity.

Triumph—may be of several kinds

455

Triumph—may be of several kinds—
There's Triumph in the Room
When that Old Imperator—Death—
By Faith

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 put this World down, like a Bundle

527

To put this World down, like a Bundle-
And walk steady, away,
Requires Energy-possibly Agony'
Tis the Scarlet way

Trodden with straight renunciation
By the Son of God-
Later, his faint Confederates
Justify the Road-

Flavors of that old Crucifixion-
Filaments of Bloom, Pontius Pilate sowed-
Strong Clusters, from Barabbas' Tomb-

Sacrament, Saints partook before us-
Patent, every drop,
With the Brand of the Gentile Drinker
Who indorsed the Cup-

To venerate the simple days

57

To venerate the simple days
Which lead the seasons by,
Needs but to remember
That from you or I,
They may take the trifle
Termed mortality!

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 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!

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 not that Dying hurts us so

335

'Tis not that Dying hurts us so'
Tis Living-hurts us more-
But Dying-is a different way-
A Kind behind the Door-

The Southern Custom-of the Bird-
That ere the Frosts are due-
Accepts a better LatitudeWe-
are the Birds-that stay.

The Shrivers round Farmers' doors-
For whose reluctant Crumb-
We stipulate-till pitying Snows
Persuade our Feathers Home.

'Tis good-the looking back on Grief

660

'Tis good-the looking back on Grief-
To re-endure a Day-
We thought the Mighty Funeral-
Of All Conceived Joy-

To recollect how Busy Grass
Did meddle-one by one-
Till all the Grief with Summer-waved
And none could see the stone.

And though the Woe you have Today
Be larger-As the Sea
Exceeds its Unremembered DropThey're
Water-equally-

Till Death—is narrow Loving

907

Till Death—is narrow Loving—
The scantest Heart extant
Will hold you till your privilege
Of Finiteness—be spent—

But He whose loss procures you
Such Destitution that
Your Life too abject for itself
Thenceforward imitate—

Until—Resemblance perfect—
Yourself, for His pursuit
Delight of Nature—abdicate—
Exhibit Love—somewhat—

Through the strait pass of suffering

792

Through the strait pass of suffering-
The Martyrs-even-trod.
Their feet-upon Temptations-
Their faces-upon God-

A stately-shriven-CompanyConvulsion-
playing roundHarmless-
as streaks of Meteor-
Upon a Planet's Bond-

Their faith-the everlasting troth-
Their Expectation-fair-
The Needle-to the North DegreeWades-
so-thro' polar Air!

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 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 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 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.

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.

They Shut Me Up in Prose

They shut me up in Prose --
As when a little Girl
They put me in the Closet --
Because they liked me "still" --

Still! Could themself have peeped --
And seen my Brain -- go round --
They might as wise have lodged a Bird
For Treason -- in the Pound --

Himself has but to will
And easy as a Star
Abolish his Captivity --
And laugh -- No more have I --

They dropped like flakes

They dropped like flakes, they dropped like stars,
Like petals from a rose,
When suddenly across the lune
A wind with fingers goes.

They perished in the seamless grass,-No
eye could find the place;
But God on his repealless list
Can summon every face