Life and Existence

Color—Caste—Denomination


970

Color—Caste—Denomination—
These—are Time's Affair—
Death's diviner Classifying
Does not know they are—


As in sleep—All Hue forgotten—
Tenets—put behind—
Death's large—Democratic fingers
Rub away the Brand—


If Circassian—He is careless—
If He put away
Chrysalis of Blonde—or Umber—
Equal Butterfly—


They emerge from His Obscuring—
What Death—knows so well—
Our minuter intuitions—
Deem unplausible—

By my Window have I for Scenery

797

By my Window have I for Scenery
Just a Sea-with a Stem-
If the Bird and the Farmer-deem it a "Pine"-
The Opinion will serve-for them-

It has no Port, nor a "Line"-but the Jays-
That split their route to the Sky-
Or a Squirrel, whose giddy Peninsula
May be easier reached-this way-

For Inlands-the Earth is the under side-
And the upper side-is the Sun-
And its Commerce-if Commerce it have-
Of Spice-I infer from the Odors borne-

Of its Voice-to affirm-when the Wind is within-
Can the Dumb-define the Divine?
The Definition of Melody-is-
That Definition is none


It-suggests to our FaithThey-
suggest to our Sight-
When the latter-is put away
I shall meet with Conviction I somewhere met
That Immortality-

Was the Pine at my Window a "Fellow
Of the Royal" Infinity?
Apprehensions-are God's introductions-
To be hallowed-accordingly-

Bring me the sunset in a cup

128

Bring me the sunset in a cup,
Reckon the morning's flagons up
And say how many Dew,
Tell me how far the morning leaps-
Tell me what time the weaver sleeps
Who spun the breadth of blue!


Write me how many notes there be
In the new Robin's ecstasy
Among astonished boughs-
How many trips the Tortoise makes-
How many cups the Bee partakes,
The Debauchee of Dews!


Also, who laid the Rainbow's piers,
Also, who leads the docile spheres
By withes of supple blue?
Whose fingers string the stalactite-
Who counts the wampum of the night
To see that none is due?


Who built this little Alban House
And shut the windows down so close
My spirit cannot see?
Who'll let me out some gala day
With implements to fly away,
Passing Pomposity?

Bound-a trouble

269

Bound-a trouble-
And lives can bear it!
Limit-how deep a bleeding go!
So-many-drops-of vital scarlet-
Deal with the soul
As with Algebra!


Tell it the Ages-to a cypher-
And it will ache-contented-onSing-
at its pain-as any Workman-
Notching the fall of the Even Sun!

Better—than Music! For I—who heard it

503

Better—than Music! For I—who heard it—
I was used—to the Birds—before—
This—was different—'Twas Translation—
Of all tunes I knew—and more—


'Twasn't contained—like other stanza—
No one could play it—the second time—
But the Composer—perfect Mozart—
Perish with him—that Keyless Rhyme!


So—Children—told how Brooks in Eden—
Bubbled a better—Melody—
Quaintly infer—Eve's great surrender—
Urging the feet—that would—not—fly—


Children—matured—are wiser—mostly—
Eden—a legend—dimly told—
Eve—and the Anguish—Grandame's story—
But—I was telling a tune—I heard—


Not such a strain—the Church—baptizes—
When the last Saint—goes up the Aisles—
Not such a stanza splits the silence—
When the Redemption strikes her Bells—


Let me not spill—its smallest cadence—
Humming—for promise—when alone—
Humming—until my faint Rehearsal—
Drop into tune—around the Throne—

Besides the Autumn poets sing

131

Besides the Autumn poets sing
A few prosaic days
A little this side of the snow
And that side of the Haze-

A few incisive Mornings-
A few Ascetic EvesGone-
Mr. Bryant's "Golden Rod"-
And Mr. Thomson's "sheaves."

Still, is the bustle in the Brook-
Sealed are the spicy valves-
Mesmeric fingers softly touch
The Eyes of many Elves-

Perhaps a squirrel may remain-
My sentiments to share-
Grant me, Oh Lord, a sunny mind-
Thy windy will to bear!

Bereaved of all, I went abroad

784

Bereaved of all, I went abroad-
No less bereaved was I
Upon a New Peninsula-
The Grave preceded me-

Obtained my Lodgings, ere myself-
And when I sought my Bed-
The Grave it was reposed upon
The Pillow for my Head-

I waked to find it first awake-
I rose-It followed me-
I tried to drop it in the Crowd-
To lose it in the Sea-

In Cups of artificial Drowse
To steep its shape away-
The Grave-was finished-but the Spade
Remained in Memory-

At last, to be identified!

174

At last, to be identified!
At last, the lamps upon thy side
The rest of Life to see!


Past Midnight! Past the Morning Star!
Past Sunrise!
Ah, What leagues there were
Between our feet, and Day!

As plan for Noon and plan for Night

960

As plan for Noon and plan for Night
So differ Life and Death
In positive Prospective-
The Foot upon the Earth


At Distance, and Achievement, strains,
The Foot upon the Grave
Makes effort at conclusion
Assisted faint of Love.

As plan for Noon and plan for Night

960

As plan for Noon and plan for Night
So differ Life and Death
In positive Prospective-
The Foot upon the Earth


At Distance, and Achievement, strains,
The Foot upon the Grave
Makes effort at conclusion
Assisted faint of Love.

As imperceptibly as Grief

1540

As imperceptibly as Grief
The Summer lapsed away-
Too imperceptible at last
To seem like Perfidy-
A Quietness distilled
As Twilight long begun,
Or Nature spending with herself
Sequestered Afternoon-
The Dusk drew earlier in-
The Morning foreign shone-
A courteous, yet harrowing Grace,
As Guest, that would be gone-
And thus, without a Wing
Or service of a Keel
Our Summer made her light escape
Into the Beautiful.

As Frost is best conceived

951

As Frost is best conceived
By force of its Result-
Affliction is inferred
By subsequent effect-

If when the sun reveal,
The Garden keep the Gash-
If as the Days resume
The wilted countenance

Cannot correct the crease
Or counteract the stain-
Presumption is Vitality
Was somewhere put in twain.

As by the dead we love to sit

88

As by the dead we love to sit,
Become so wondrous dear-
As for the lost we grapple
Tho' all the rest are here-

In broken mathematics
We estimate our prize
Vast-in its fading ration
To our penurious eyes!

Arcturus


"Arcturus" is his other name—
I'd rather call him "Star."
It's very mean of Science
To go and interfere!


I slew a worm the other day—
A "Savant" passing by
Murmured "Resurgam"—"Centipede"!
"Oh Lord—how frail are we"!


I pull a flower from the woods—
A monster with a glass
Computes the stamens in a breath—
And has her in a "class"!


Whereas I took the Butterfly
Aforetime in my hat—
He sits erect in "Cabinets"—
The Clover bells forgot.


What once was "Heaven"
Is "Zenith" now—
Where I proposed to go
When Time's brief masquerade was done
Is mapped and charted too.


What if the poles should frisk about
And stand upon their heads!
I hope I'm ready for "the worst"—
Whatever prank betides!


Perhaps the "Kingdom of Heaven's" changed—
I hope the "Children" there Won't be "new fashioned" when I come—
And laugh at me—and stare—


I hope the Father in the skies
Will lift his little girl—
Old fashioned—naught—everything—
Over the stile of "Pearl."

Arcturus


"Arcturus" is his other name—
I'd rather call him "Star."
It's very mean of Science
To go and interfere!


I slew a worm the other day—
A "Savant" passing by
Murmured "Resurgam"—"Centipede"!
"Oh Lord—how frail are we"!


I pull a flower from the woods—
A monster with a glass
Computes the stamens in a breath—
And has her in a "class"!


Whereas I took the Butterfly
Aforetime in my hat—
He sits erect in "Cabinets"—
The Clover bells forgot.


What once was "Heaven"
Is "Zenith" now—
Where I proposed to go
When Time's brief masquerade was done
Is mapped and charted too.


What if the poles should frisk about
And stand upon their heads!
I hope I'm ready for "the worst"—
Whatever prank betides!


Perhaps the "Kingdom of Heaven's" changed—
I hope the "Children" there Won't be "new fashioned" when I come—
And laugh at me—and stare—


I hope the Father in the skies
Will lift his little girl—
Old fashioned—naught—everything—
Over the stile of "Pearl."

An ignorance a Sunset

552

An ignorance a Sunset
Confer upon the Eye-
Of Territory-ColorCircumference-
Decay-

Its Amber Revelation
Exhilirate-Debase-
Omnipotence' inspection
Of Our inferior face-

And when the solemn features
Confirm-in Victory-
We start-as if detected
In Immortality-

An ignorance a Sunset

552

An ignorance a Sunset
Confer upon the Eye-
Of Territory-ColorCircumference-
Decay-

Its Amber Revelation
Exhilirate-Debase-
Omnipotence' inspection
Of Our inferior face-

And when the solemn features
Confirm-in Victory-
We start-as if detected
In Immortality-

Angels, in the early morning

94

Angels, in the early morning
May be seen the Dews among,
Stooping-plucking-smiling-flying-
Do the Buds to them belong?


Angels, when the sun is hottest
May be seen the sands among,
Stooping-plucking-sighing-flying-
Parched the flowers they bear along.

Ample make this bed.

Ample make this bed.
Make this bed with awe;
In it wait till judgment break
Excellent and fair.


Be its mattress straight,
Be its pillow round;
Let no sunrise' yellow noise
Interrupt this ground.

All forgot for recollecting

966

All forgot for recollecting
Just a paltry One-
All forsook, for just a Stranger's
New Accompanying-

Grace of Wealth, and Grace of Station
Less accounted than
An unknown Esteem possessingEstimate-
Who can-

Home effaced-Her faces dwindledNature-
altered smallSun-
if shone-or Storm-if shattered-
Overlooked I all


Dropped-my fate-a timid Pebble-
In thy bolder SeaProve-
me-Sweet-if I regret it-
Prove Myself-of Thee-

All overgrown by cunning moss

148

All overgrown by cunning moss,
All interspersed with weed,
The little cage of "Currer Bell"
In quiet "Haworth" laid.


Gathered from many wanderings-
Gethsemane can tell
Thro' what transporting anguish
She reached the Asphodel!


Soft falls the sounds of Eden
Upon her puzzled ear-
Oh what an afternoon for Heaven,
When "Bronte" entered there!

All but Death, can be Adjusted

749

All but Death, can be Adjusted-
Dynasties repairedSystems-
settled in their SocketsCitadels-
dissolved-

Wastes of Lives-resown with Colors
By Succeeding SpringsDeath-
unto itself-Exception-
Is exempt from Change-

All but Death, can be Adjusted

749

All but Death, can be Adjusted-
Dynasties repairedSystems-
settled in their SocketsCitadels-
dissolved-

Wastes of Lives-resown with Colors
By Succeeding SpringsDeath-
unto itself-Exception-
Is exempt from Change-

After great pain, a formal feeling comes -- (341)

After great pain, a formal feeling comes --
The Nerves sit ceremonious, like Tombs
The stiff Heart questions, was it He, that bore,
And Yesterday, or Centuries before?


The Feet, mechanical, go round --
Of Ground, or Air, or Ought --
A Wooden way
Regardless grown,
A Quartz contentment, like a stone --


This is the Hour of Lead --
Remembered, if outlived,
As Freezing persons, recollect the Snow --
First -- Chill -- then Stupor -- then the letting go --