Life and Existence

I meant to have but modest needs

476

I meant to have but modest needs-
Such as Content-and Heaven-
Within my income-these could lie
And Life and I-keep even-

But since the last-included both-
It would suffice my Prayer
But just for One-to stipulate-
And Grace would grant the Pair-

And so-upon this wise-I prayed-
Great Spirit-Give to me
A Heaven not so large as Yours,
But large enough-for me-

A Smile suffused Jehovah's face-
The Cherubim-withdrew-
Grave Saints stole out to look at me-
And showed their dimples-too-

I left the Place, with all my might-
I threw my Prayer away-
The Quiet Ages picked it up-
And Judgment-twinkled-too-
Tat one so honest-be extant-
It take the Tale for true-
That "Whatsoever Ye shall ask-
Itself be given You"-

But I, grown shrewder-scan the Skies
With a suspicious Air-
As Children-swindled for the first
All Swindlers-be-infer-

I live with Him—I see His face

463

I live with Him—I see His face—
I go no more away
For Visitor—or Sundown—
Death's single privacy


The Only One—forestalling Mine—
And that—by Right that He
Presents a Claim invisible—
No wedlock—granted Me—


I live with Him—I hear His Voice—
I stand alive—Today—
To witness to the Certainty
Of Immortality—


Taught Me—by Time—the lower Way—
Conviction—Every day—
That Life like This—is stopless—
Be Judgment—what it may—

I live with Him—I see His face

463

I live with Him—I see His face—
I go no more away
For Visitor—or Sundown—
Death's single privacy


The Only One—forestalling Mine—
And that—by Right that He
Presents a Claim invisible—
No wedlock—granted Me—


I live with Him—I hear His Voice—
I stand alive—Today—
To witness to the Certainty
Of Immortality—


Taught Me—by Time—the lower Way—
Conviction—Every day—
That Life like This—is stopless—
Be Judgment—what it may—

I like a look of Agony

241

I like a look of Agony,
Because I know it's true-
Men do not sham Convulsion,
Nor simulate, a Throe-

The Eyes glaze once-and that is Death-
Impossible to feign
The Beads upon the Forehead
By homely Anguish strung.

I heard a fly buzz when I died;

I heard a fly buzz when I died;
The stillness round my form
Was like the stillness in the air
Between the heaves of storm.


The eyes beside had wrung them dry,
And breaths were gathering sure
For that last onset, when the king
Be witnessed in his power.


I willed my keepsakes, signed away
What portion of me I
Could make assignable,--and then
There interposed a fly,


With blue, uncertain, stumbling buzz,
Between the light and me;
And then the windows failed, and then
I could not see to see.

I have a King, who does not speak

103

I have a King, who does not speakSo-
wondering-thro' the hours meek
I trudge the day away-
Half glad when it is night, and sleep,
If, haply, thro' a dream, to peep
In parlors, shut by day.


And if I do-when morning comes-
It is as if a hundred drums
Did round my pillow roll,
And shouts fill all my Childish sky,
And Bells keep saying "Victory"
From steeples in my soul!


And if I don't-the little Bird
Within the Orchard, is not heard,
And I omit to pray
"Father, thy will be done" today
For my will goes the other way,
And it were perjury!

I have a King, who does not speak

103

I have a King, who does not speakSo-
wondering-thro' the hours meek
I trudge the day away-
Half glad when it is night, and sleep,
If, haply, thro' a dream, to peep
In parlors, shut by day.


And if I do-when morning comes-
It is as if a hundred drums
Did round my pillow roll,
And shouts fill all my Childish sky,
And Bells keep saying "Victory"
From steeples in my soul!


And if I don't-the little Bird
Within the Orchard, is not heard,
And I omit to pray
"Father, thy will be done" today
For my will goes the other way,
And it were perjury!

I got so I could take his name

293

I got so I could take his nameWithout-
Tremendous gain-
That Stop-sensation-on my Soul-
And Thunder-in the Room-

I got so I could walk across
That Angle in the floor,
Where he turned so, and I turned-how-
And all our Sinew tore-

I got so I could stir the Box-
In which his letters grew
Without that forcing, in my breath-
As Staples-driven through-

Could dimly recollect a Grace-
I think, they call it "God"-
Renowned to ease Extremity-
When Formula, had failed-

And shape my HandsPetition's
way,
Tho' ignorant of a word
That Ordination-utters-

My Business, with the Cloud,
If any Power behind it, be,
Not subject to Despair-
It care, in some remoter way,
For so minute affair
As Misery-
Itself, too vast, for interrupting-more-

I got so I could take his name

293

I got so I could take his nameWithout-
Tremendous gain-
That Stop-sensation-on my Soul-
And Thunder-in the Room-

I got so I could walk across
That Angle in the floor,
Where he turned so, and I turned-how-
And all our Sinew tore-

I got so I could stir the Box-
In which his letters grew
Without that forcing, in my breath-
As Staples-driven through-

Could dimly recollect a Grace-
I think, they call it "God"-
Renowned to ease Extremity-
When Formula, had failed-

And shape my HandsPetition's
way,
Tho' ignorant of a word
That Ordination-utters-

My Business, with the Cloud,
If any Power behind it, be,
Not subject to Despair-
It care, in some remoter way,
For so minute affair
As Misery-
Itself, too vast, for interrupting-more-

I had been hungry all the years-

I had been hungry all the years-
My noon had come, to dine-
I, trembling, drew the table near
And touched the curious wine.


'T was this on tables I had seen
When turning, hungry, lone,
I looked in windows, for the wealth
I could not hope to own.


I did not know the ample bread,
'T was so unlike the crumb
The birds and I had often shared
In Nature's dining-room.


The plenty hurt me, 't was so new,--
Myself felt ill and odd,
As berry of a mountain bush
Transplanted to the road.


Nor was I hungry; so I found
That hunger was a way
Of persons outside windows,
The entering takes away.

I felt my life with both my hands

351

I felt my life with both my hands
To see if it was there-
I held my spirit to the Glass,
To prove it possibler-


I turned my Being round and round
And paused at every pound
To ask the Owner's name-
For doubt, that I should know the Sound-


I judged my features-jarred my hair-
I pushed my dimples by, and waited-
If they-twinkled back-
Conviction might, of me-


I told myself, "Take Courage, FriendThat-
was a former time-
But we might learn to like the Heaven,
As well as our Old Home!"

I felt my life with both my hands

351

I felt my life with both my hands
To see if it was there-
I held my spirit to the Glass,
To prove it possibler-


I turned my Being round and round
And paused at every pound
To ask the Owner's name-
For doubt, that I should know the Sound-


I judged my features-jarred my hair-
I pushed my dimples by, and waited-
If they-twinkled back-
Conviction might, of me-


I told myself, "Take Courage, FriendThat-
was a former time-
But we might learn to like the Heaven,
As well as our Old Home!"

I felt a cleaving in my mind

I felt a cleaving in my mind
As if my brain had split;

I tried to match it, seam by seam,
But could not make them fit.

The thought behind I strove to join
Unto the thought before,

But sequence ravelled out of reach
Like balls upon a floor.

I dreaded that first Robin, so

348

I dreaded that first Robin, so,
But He is mastered, now,
I'm accustomed to Him grown,
He hurts a little, though-


I thought If I could only live
Till that first Shout got by-
Not all Pianos in the Woods
Had power to mangle me-


I dared not meet the Daffodils-
For fear their Yellow Gown
Would pierce me with a fashion
So foreign to my own-


I wished the Grass would hurrySo-
when 'twas time to seeHe'd
be too tall, the tallest one
Could stretch-to look at me-


I could not bear the Bees should come,
I wished they'd stay away
In those dim countries where they go,
What word had they, for me?


They're here, though; not a creature failed-
No Blossom stayed away
In gentle deference to me-
The Queen of Calvary-


Each one salutes me, as he goes,
And I, my childish Plumes,
Lift, in bereaved acknowledgment
Of their unthinking Drums-

I could not prove the Years had feet

563

I could not prove the Years had feet-
Yet confident they run
Am I, from symptoms that are past
And Series that are done-

I find my feet have further Goals-
I smile upon the Aims
That felt so ample-YesterdayToday's-
have vaster claims-

I do not doubt the self I was
Was competent to me-
But something awkward in the fit-
Proves that-outgrown-I see-

I could not prove the Years had feet

563

I could not prove the Years had feet-
Yet confident they run
Am I, from symptoms that are past
And Series that are done-

I find my feet have further Goals-
I smile upon the Aims
That felt so ample-YesterdayToday's-
have vaster claims-

I do not doubt the self I was
Was competent to me-
But something awkward in the fit-
Proves that-outgrown-I see-

I cried at Pity—not at Pain

588

I cried at Pity—not at Pain—
I heard a Woman say
"Poor Child"—and something in her voice
Convicted me—of me—


So long I fainted, to myself
It seemed the common way,
And Health, and Laughter, Curious things—
To look at, like a Toy—


To sometimes hear "Rich people" buy
And see the Parcel rolled—
And carried, I supposed—to Heaven,
For children, made of Gold—


But not to touch, or wish for,
Or think of, with a sigh—
And so and so—had been to me,
Had God willed differently.


I wish I knew that Woman's name—
So when she comes this way,
To hold my life, and hold my ears
For fear I hear her say


She's "sorry I am dead"—again—
Just when the Grave and I—
Have sobbed ourselves almost to sleep,
Our only Lullaby—

I cautious, scanned my little life

178

I cautious, scanned my little life-
I winnowed what would fade
From what would last till Heads like mine
Should be a-dreaming laid.


I put the latter in a Barn-
The former, blew away.
I went one winter morning
And lo - my priceless Hay


Was not upon the "Scaffold"-
Was not upon the "Beam"-
And from a thriving Farmer-
A Cynic, I became.


Whether a Thief did it-
Whether it was the wind-
Whether Deity's guiltless-
My business is, to find!


So I begin to ransack!
How is it Hearts, with Thee?
Art thou within the little Barn
Love provided Thee?

I cannot live with You (No. 640)

I cannot live with You--
It would be Life--
And Life is over there--
Behind the Shelf

The Sexton keeps the Key to--
Putting up
Our Life--His Porcelain--
Like a Cup--

Discarded of the Housewife-Quaint--
or Broke--
A newer Sevres pleases--
Old Ones crack--

I could not die--with You--
For One must wait
To shut the Other's Gaze down-You--
could not--

And I--could I stand by
And see You--freeze--
Without my Right of Frost-Death's
privilege?

Nor could I rise--with You--
Because Your Face
Would put out Jesus'--
That New Grace

Glow plain--and foreign
On my homesick Eye--
Except that You than He
Shone closer by-


They'd judge Us--How--
For You--served Heaven--You know,
Or sought to--
I could not--

Because You saturated Sight--
And I had no more Eyes
For sordid excellence
As Paradise

And were You lost, I would be--
Though My Name
Rang loudest
On the Heavenly fame--

And were You--saved--
And I--condemned to be


Where You were not--
That self--were Hell to Me--

So We must meet apart--
You there--I--here--
With just the Door ajar
That Oceans are--and Prayer--
And that White Sustenance--
Despair--

I cannot live with You (No. 640)

I cannot live with You--
It would be Life--
And Life is over there--
Behind the Shelf

The Sexton keeps the Key to--
Putting up
Our Life--His Porcelain--
Like a Cup--

Discarded of the Housewife-Quaint--
or Broke--
A newer Sevres pleases--
Old Ones crack--

I could not die--with You--
For One must wait
To shut the Other's Gaze down-You--
could not--

And I--could I stand by
And see You--freeze--
Without my Right of Frost-Death's
privilege?

Nor could I rise--with You--
Because Your Face
Would put out Jesus'--
That New Grace

Glow plain--and foreign
On my homesick Eye--
Except that You than He
Shone closer by-


They'd judge Us--How--
For You--served Heaven--You know,
Or sought to--
I could not--

Because You saturated Sight--
And I had no more Eyes
For sordid excellence
As Paradise

And were You lost, I would be--
Though My Name
Rang loudest
On the Heavenly fame--

And were You--saved--
And I--condemned to be


Where You were not--
That self--were Hell to Me--

So We must meet apart--
You there--I--here--
With just the Door ajar
That Oceans are--and Prayer--
And that White Sustenance--
Despair--

I bring an unaccustomed wine

132

I bring an unaccustomed wine
To lips long parching
Next to mine,
And summon them to drink;


Crackling with fever, they Essay,
I turn my brimming eyes away,
And come next hour to look.


The hands still hug the tardy glass-
The lips I would have cooled, alas-
Are so superfluous Cold-


I would as soon attempt to warm
The bosoms where the frost has lain
Ages beneath the mould-


Some other thirsty there may be
To whom this would have pointed me
Had it remained to speak-


And so I always bear the cup
If, haply, mine may be the drop
Some pilgrim thirst to slake-


If, haply, any say to me
"Unto the little, unto me,"
When I at last awake.

I am alive—I guess

470

I am alive—I guess—
The Branches on my Hand
Are full of Morning Glory—
And at my finger's end—


The Carmine—tingles warm—
And if I hold a Glass
Across my Mouth—it blurs it—
Physician's—proof of Breath—


I am alive—because
I am not in a Room—
The Parlor—Commonly—it is—
So Visitors may come—


And lean—and view it sidewise—
And add "How cold—it grew"—
And "Was it conscious—when it stepped
In Immortality?"


I am alive—because
I do not own a House—
Entitled to myself—precise—
And fitting no one else—


And marked my Girlhood's name—
So Visitors may know
Which Door is mine—and not

I am alive—I guess

470

I am alive—I guess—
The Branches on my Hand
Are full of Morning Glory—
And at my finger's end—


The Carmine—tingles warm—
And if I hold a Glass
Across my Mouth—it blurs it—
Physician's—proof of Breath—


I am alive—because
I am not in a Room—
The Parlor—Commonly—it is—
So Visitors may come—


And lean—and view it sidewise—
And add "How cold—it grew"—
And "Was it conscious—when it stepped
In Immortality?"


I am alive—because
I do not own a House—
Entitled to myself—precise—
And fitting no one else—


And marked my Girlhood's name—
So Visitors may know
Which Door is mine—and not

How the Waters closed above Him

923

How the Waters closed above Him
We shall never know-
How He stretched His Anguish to us
That-is covered too-

Spreads the Pond Her Base of Lilies
Bold above the Boy
Whose unclaimed Hat and Jacket
Sum the History-