Life and Existence

It's easy to invent a Life

724

It's easy to invent a Life-
God does it-every DayCreation-
but the Gambol
Of His Authority


It's easy to efface it-
The thrifty Deity
Could scarce afford Eternity
To Spontaneity-

The Perished Patterns murmur-
But His Perturbless Plan
Proceed-inserting Here-a SunThere-
leaving out a Man-

It's easy to invent a Life

724

It's easy to invent a Life-
God does it-every DayCreation-
but the Gambol
Of His Authority


It's easy to efface it-
The thrifty Deity
Could scarce afford Eternity
To Spontaneity-

The Perished Patterns murmur-
But His Perturbless Plan
Proceed-inserting Here-a SunThere-
leaving out a Man-

It was given to me by the Gods

454

It was given to me by the Gods-
When I was a little Girl-
They given us Presents most-you know-
When we are new-and small.
I kept it in my Hand-
I never put it down-
I did not dare to eat-or sleep-
For fear it would be gone-
I heard such words as "Rich"-
When hurrying to school-
From lips at Corners of the Streets-
And wrestled with a smile.
Rich! 'Twas Myself-was rich-
To take the name of Gold-
And Gold to own-in solid Bars-
The Difference-made me bold-

It was too late for Man

623

It was too late for Man-
But early, yet, for GodCreation-
impotent to help-
But Prayer-remained-Our Side-

How excellent the Heaven-
When Earth-cannot be had-
How hospitable-then-the face
Of our Old Neighbor-God-

It troubled me as once I was

600

It troubled me as once I was-
For I was once a Child-
Concluding how an Atom-fell-
And yet the Heavens-held-

The Heavens weighed the most-by far-
Yet Blue-and solid-stood-
Without a Bolt-that I could prove-
Would Giants-understand?

Life set me larger-problems-
Some I shall keep-to solve
Till Algebra is easier-
Or simpler proved-above


Then-too-be comprehended-
What sorer-puzzled me-
Why Heaven did not break away-
And tumble-Blue-on me-

It might be lonelier

405

It might be lonelier
Without the LonelinessI'm
so accustomed to my Fate-
Perhaps the Other-Peace-

Would interrupt the Dark-
And crowd the little Room-
Too scant-by Cubits-to contain
The Sacrament-of Him-

I am not used to Hope-
It might intrude upon-
Its sweet parade-blaspheme the place-
Ordained to Suffering-

It might be easier
To fail-with Land in Sight-
Than gain-My Blue Peninsula-
To perish-of Delight-

It don't sound so terrible—quite—as it did

426

It don't sound so terrible—quite—as it did—
I run it over—"Dead", Brain, "Dead."
Put it in Latin—left of my school—
Seems it don't shriek so—under rule.


Turn it, a little—full in the face
A Trouble looks bitterest—
Shift it—just—
Say "When Tomorrow comes this way—
I shall have waded down one Day."


I suppose it will interrupt me some
Till I get accustomed—but then the Tomb
Like other new Things—shows largest—then—
And smaller, by Habit—


It's shrewder then
Put the Thought in advance—a Year—
How like "a fit"—then—
Murder—wear!

It don't sound so terrible—quite—as it did

426

It don't sound so terrible—quite—as it did—
I run it over—"Dead", Brain, "Dead."
Put it in Latin—left of my school—
Seems it don't shriek so—under rule.


Turn it, a little—full in the face
A Trouble looks bitterest—
Shift it—just—
Say "When Tomorrow comes this way—
I shall have waded down one Day."


I suppose it will interrupt me some
Till I get accustomed—but then the Tomb
Like other new Things—shows largest—then—
And smaller, by Habit—


It's shrewder then
Put the Thought in advance—a Year—
How like "a fit"—then—
Murder—wear!

It ceased to hurt me, though so slow

584

It ceased to hurt me, though so slow
I could not feel the Anguish go-
But only knew by looking back-
That something-had benumbed the Track-


Nor when it altered, I could say,
For I had worn it, every day,
As constant as the Childish frock-
I hung upon the Peg, at night.


But not the Grief-that nestled close
As needles-ladies softly press
To Cushions Cheeks-
To keep their place-


Nor what consoled it, I could trace-
Except, whereas 'twas WildernessIt's
better-almost Peace-

Is Bliss then, such Abyss

340

Is Bliss then, such Abyss,
I must not put my foot amiss
For fear I spoil my shoe?


I'd rather suit my foot
Than save my Boot-
For yet to buy another Pair
Is possible,
At any store-


But Bliss, is sold just once.
The Patent lost
None buy it any more-
Say, Foot, decide the point-
The Lady cross, or not?
Verdict for Boot!

I'm the little "Heart's Ease"

176

I'm the little "Heart's Ease"!
I don't care for pouting skies!
If the Butterfly delay
Can I, therefore, stay away?


If the Coward Bumble Bee
In his chimney corner stay,
I, must resoluter be!
Who'll apologize for me?


Dear, Old fashioned, little flower!
Eden is old fashioned, too!
Birds are antiquated fellows!
Heaven does not change her blue.
Nor will I, the little Heart's Ease-
Ever be induced to do!

In Ebon Box, when years have flown

169

In Ebon Box, when years have flown
To reverently peer,
Wiping away the velvet dust
Summers have sprinkled there!


To hold a letter to the light-
Grown Tawny now, with time-
To con the faded syllables
That quickened us like Wine!


Perhaps a Flower's shrivelled check
Among its stores to find-
Plucked far away, some morning-
By gallant-mouldering hand!


A curl, perhaps, from foreheads
Our Constancy forgot-
Perhaps, an Antique trinket-
In vanished fashions set!


And then to lay them quiet back-
And go about its care-
As if the little Ebon Box
Were none of our affair!

I'm sorry for the Dead—Today

529

I'm sorry for the Dead—Today—
It's such congenial times
Old Neighbors have at fences—
It's time o' year for Hay.


And Broad—Sunburned Acquaintance
Discourse between the Toil—
And laugh, a homely species
That makes the Fences smile—


It seems so straight to lie away
From all of the noise of Fields—
The Busy Carts—the fragrant Cocks—
The Mower's Metre—Steals—


A Trouble lest they're homesick—
Those Farmers—and their Wives—
Set separate from the Farming—
And all the Neighbors' lives—


A Wonder if the Sepulchre
Don't feel a lonesome way—
When Men—and Boys—and Carts—and June,
Go down the Fields to "Hay"—

I'm nobody! Who are you?

I'm nobody! Who are you?
Are you nobody, too?
Then there's a pair of us -- don't tell!
They'd banish -- you know!


How dreary to be somebody!
How public like a frog
To tell one's name the livelong day
To an admiring bog!

I'm "wife"-I've finished that

199

I'm "wife"-I've finished that-
That other stateI'm
Czar-I'm "Woman" nowIt's
safer so-


How odd the Girl's life looks
Behind this soft Eclipse-
I think that Earth feels so
To folks in Heaven-now-


This being comfort-then
That other kind-was pain-
But why compare?
I'm "Wife"! Stop there!

I'm "wife"-I've finished that

199

I'm "wife"-I've finished that-
That other stateI'm
Czar-I'm "Woman" nowIt's
safer so-


How odd the Girl's life looks
Behind this soft Eclipse-
I think that Earth feels so
To folks in Heaven-now-


This being comfort-then
That other kind-was pain-
But why compare?
I'm "Wife"! Stop there!

I'm "wife"-I've finished that

199

I'm "wife"-I've finished that-
That other stateI'm
Czar-I'm "Woman" nowIt's
safer so-


How odd the Girl's life looks
Behind this soft Eclipse-
I think that Earth feels so
To folks in Heaven-now-


This being comfort-then
That other kind-was pain-
But why compare?
I'm "Wife"! Stop there!

If What we could-were what we would

407

If What we could-were what we wouldCriterion-
be small-
It is the Ultimate of Talk-
The Impotence to Tell-

If this is "fading"

120

If this is "fading"
Oh let me immediately "fade"!
If this is "dying"
Bury me, in such a shroud of red!
If this is "sleep,"
On such a night
How proud to shut the eye!
Good Evening, gentle Fellow men!
Peacock presumes to die!

If I'm lost-now

256

If I'm lost-now
That I was found-
Shall still my transport be-
That once-on me-those Jasper Gates
Blazed open-suddenly-

That in my awkward-gazing-face-
The Angels-softly peered-
And touched me with their fleeces,
Almost as if they caredI'm
banished-now-you know it-
How foreign that can beYou'll
know-Sir-when the Savior's face
Turns so-away from you-

If I should die

54

If I should die,
And you should live-
And time should gurgle on-
And morn should beam-
And noon should burn-
As it has usual done-
If Birds should build as early
And Bees as bustling go-
One might depart at option
From enterprise below!
'Tis sweet to know that stocks will stand
When we with Daisies lie-
That Commerce will continue-
And Trades as briskly fly-
It makes the parting tranquil
And keeps the soul serene-
That gentlemen so sprightly
Conduct the pleasing scene!

If I should die

54

If I should die,
And you should live-
And time should gurgle on-
And morn should beam-
And noon should burn-
As it has usual done-
If Birds should build as early
And Bees as bustling go-
One might depart at option
From enterprise below!
'Tis sweet to know that stocks will stand
When we with Daisies lie-
That Commerce will continue-
And Trades as briskly fly-
It makes the parting tranquil
And keeps the soul serene-
That gentlemen so sprightly
Conduct the pleasing scene!

If I may have it, when it's dead

577

If I may have it, when it's dead,
I'll be contented-so-
If just as soon as Breath is out
It shall belong to me-


Until they lock it in the Grave,
'Tis Bliss I cannot weigh-
For tho' they lock Thee in the Grave,
Myself-can own the key-


Think of it Lover! I and Thee
Permitted-face to face to be-
After a Life-a Death-We'll say-
For Death was That-
And this-is Thee


I'll tell Thee All-how Bald it grew-
How Midnight felt, at first-to me-
How all the Clocks stopped in the World-
And Sunshine pinched me-'Twas so cold-


Then how the Grief got sleepy-some-
As if my Soul were deaf and dumb-
Just making signs-across-to Thee-
That this way-thou could'st notice me


I'll tell you how I tried to keep
A smile, to show you, when this Deep
All Waded-We look back for Play,
At those Old Times-in Calvary,


Forgive me, if the Grave come slow-
For Coveting to look at Thee-
Forgive me, if to stroke thy frost
Outvisions Paradise!

If He dissolve—then—there is nothing

236

If He dissolve—then—there is nothing—more—
Eclipse—at Midnight—
It was dark—before—
Sunset—at Easter—
Blindness—on the Dawn—
Faint Star of Bethlehem—
Gone down!


Would but some God—inform Him—
Or it be too late!
Say—that the pulse just lisps—
The Chariots wait—


Say—that a little life—for His—
Is leaking—red—
His little Spaniel—tell Him!
Will He heed?