Others

One Blessing had I than the rest

756

One Blessing had I than the rest
So larger to my Eyes
That I stopped gauging-satisfied-
For this enchanted size-

It was the limit of my Dream-
The focus of my Prayer-
A perfect-paralyzing Bliss-
Contented as Despair-

I knew no more of Want-or Cold-
Phantasms both become
For this new Value in the Soul-
Supremest Earthly Sum-

The Heaven below the Heaven above-
Obscured with ruddier BlueLife's
Latitudes leant over-full-
The Judgment perished-too-

Why Bliss so scantily disburse-
Why Paradise defer-
Why Floods be served to Us-in Bowls-
I speculate no more-

One and One—are One

769

One and One—are One—
Two—be finished using—
Well enough for Schools—
But for Minor Choosing—


Life—just—or Death—
Or the Everlasting—
More—would be too vast
For the Soul's Comprising—

One and One—are One

769

One and One—are One—
Two—be finished using—
Well enough for Schools—
But for Minor Choosing—


Life—just—or Death—
Or the Everlasting—
More—would be too vast
For the Soul's Comprising—

On this wondrous sea

4

On this wondrous sea
Sailing silently,
Ho! Pilot, ho!
Knowest thou the shore
Where no breakers roar-
Where the storm is o'er?


In the peaceful west
Many the sails at rest-
The anchors fast-
Thither I pilot thee-
Land Ho! Eternity!
Ashore at last!

On a Columnar Self

789

On a Columnar Self-
How ample to rely
In Tumult-or Extremity-
How good the Certainty

That Lever cannot pry-
And Wedge cannot divide
Conviction-That Granitic Base-
Though None be on our Side-

Suffice Us-for a CrowdOurself-
and Rectitude-
And that Assembly-not far off
From furthest Spirit-God-

Of nearness to her sundered Things

607

Of nearness to her sundered Things
The Soul has special times-
When Dimness-looks the OddityDistinctness-
easy-seems-


The Shapes we buried, dwell about,
Familiar, in the Rooms-
Untarnished by the Sepulchre,
The Mouldering Playmate comes-


In just the Jacket that he wore-
Long buttoned in the Mold
Since we-old mornings, Children-playedDivided-
by a world-


The Grave yields back her Robberies-
The Years, our pilfered Things-
Bright Knots of Apparitions
Salute us, with their wings-


As we-it were-that perishedThemself-
had just remained till we rejoin them-
And 'twas they, and not ourself
That mourned.

Of Tolling Bell I ask the cause?

947

Of Tolling Bell I ask the cause?
"A Soul has gone to Heaven"
I'm answered in a lonesome tone-
Is Heaven then a Prison?


That Bells should ring till all should know
A Soul had gone to Heaven
Would seem to me the more the way
A Good News should be given.

Of Consciousness, her awful Mate

894

Of Consciousness, her awful Mate
The Soul cannot be rid-
As easy the secreting her
Behind the Eyes of God.

The deepest hid is sighted first
And scant to Him the Crowd-
What triple Lenses burn upon
The Escapade from God-

Of Bronze—and Blaze

290

Of Bronze—and Blaze—
The North—Tonight—
So adequate—it forms—
So preconcerted with itself—
So distant—to alarms—
And Unconcern so sovereign
To Universe, or me—
Infects my simple spirit
With Taints of Majesty—
Till I take vaster attitudes—
And strut upon my stem—
Disdaining Men, and Oxygen,
For Arrogance of them—


My Splendors, are Menagerie—
But their Completeless Show
Will entertain the Centuries
When I, am long ago,
An Island in dishonored Grass—
Whom none but Beetles—know.

Of all the Sounds despatched abroad

321

Of all the Sounds despatched abroad,
There's not a Charge to me
Like that old measure in the Boughs-
That phraseless Melody-
The Wind does-working like a Hand,
Whose fingers Comb the Sky-
Then quiver down-with tufts of Tune-
Permitted Gods, and me-

Inheritance, it is, to us-
Beyond the Art to Earn-
Beyond the trait to take away
By Robber, since the Gain
Is gotten not of fingers-
And inner than the Bone-
Hid golden, for the whole of Days,
And even in the Urn,
I cannot vouch the merry Dust
Do not arise and play
In some odd fashion of its own,
Some quainter Holiday,
When Winds go round and round in Bands-
And thrum upon the door,
And Birds take places, overhead,
To bear them Orchestra.

I crave Him grace of Summer Boughs,
If such an Outcast be-
Who never heard that fleshless ChantRise-
solemn-on the Tree,
As if some Caravan of Sound
Off Deserts, in the Sky,
Had parted Rank,
Then knit, and swept-
In Seamless Company-

Nobody knows this little Rose

35

Nobody knows this little Rose-
It might a pilgrim be
Did I not take it from the ways
And lift it up to thee.
Only a Bee will miss it-
Only a Butterfly,
Hastening from far journey-
On its breast to lie-
Only a Bird will wonder-
Only a Breeze will sigh-
Ah Little Rose-how easy
For such as thee to die!

No Rack can torture me

384

No Rack can torture me-
My Soul-at Liberty-
Behind this mortal Bone
There knits a bolder One-

You cannot prick with saw-
Nor pierce with Scimitar-
Two Bodies-therefore be-
Bind One-The Other fly-

The Eagle of his Nest
No easier divest-
And gain the Sky
Than mayest Thou-

Except Thyself may be
Thine Enemy-
Captivity is ConsciousnessSo's
Liberty.

Nature—sometimes sears a Sapling

314

Nature—sometimes sears a Sapling—
Sometimes—scalps a Tree—
Her Green People recollect it
When they do not die—


Fainter Leaves—to Further Seasons—
Dumbly testify—
We—who have the Souls—
Die oftener—Not so vitally—

Nature-sometimes sears a Sapling

314

Nature-sometimes sears a SaplingSometimes-
scalps a Tree-
Her Green People recollect it
When they do not die-

Fainter Leaves-to Further Seasons-
Dumbly testifyWe-
who have the Souls-
Die oftener-Not so vitally-

Nature rarer uses yellow

Nature rarer uses yellow
Than another hue;
Saves she all of that for sunsets,--
Prodigal of blue,


Spending scarlet like a woman,
Yellow she affords
Only scantly and selectly,
Like a lover's words.

My Worthiness is all my Doubt

751

My Worthiness is all my Doubt-
His Merit-all my fear-
Contrasting which, my quality
Do lowlier-appear-

Lest I should insufficient prove
For His beloved Need-
The Chiefest Apprehension
Upon my thronging Mind


'Tis true-that Deity to stoop
Inherently incline-
For nothing higher than Itself
Itself can rest upon-

So I-the undivine abode
Of His Elect Content-
Conform my Soul-as 'twere a Church,
Unto Her Sacrament-

Nature and God—I neither knew

835

Nature and God—I neither knew
Yet Both so well knew me
They startled, like Executors
Of My identity.


Yet Neither told—that I could learn—
My Secret as secure
As Herschel's private interest
Or Mercury's affair—

My Reward for Being, was This

343

My Reward for Being, was This.
My premium-My Bliss-
An Admiralty, less-
A Sceptre-penniless-
And Realms-just Dross-

When Thrones accost my Hands-
With "Me, Miss, Me"I'll
unroll Thee-
Dominions dowerless-beside this GraceElection-
Vote-
The Ballots of Eternity, will show just that.

My Soul—accused me—And I quailed

753

My Soul—accused me—And I quailed—
As Tongue of Diamond had reviled
All else accused me—and I smiled—
My Soul—that Morning—was My friend—


Her favor—is the best Disdain
Toward Artifice of Time—or Men—
But Her Disdain—'twere lighter bear
A finger of Enamelled Fire—

My period had come for Prayer

564

My period had come for Prayer-
No other Art-would do-
My Tactics missed a rudimentCreator-
Was it you?

God grows above-so those who pray
Horizons-must ascend-
And so I stepped upon the North
To see this Curious Friend-

His House was not-no sign had He-
By Chimney-nor by Door
Could I infer his Residence-
Vast Prairies of Air

Unbroken by a Settler-
Were all that I could seeInfinitude-
Had'st Thou no Face
That I might look on Thee?

The Silence condescended-
Creation stopped-for Me-
But awed beyond my errand-
I worshipped-did not "pray"-

My life had stood

My life had stood--a Loaded Gun--
In Corners--till a Day
The Owner passed--identified--
And carried Me away--

And now We roam in Sovereign Woods--
And now We hunt the Doe--
And every time I speak for Him--
The Mountains straight reply--

And do I smile, such cordial light
Upon the Valley glow--
It is as a Vesuvian face
Had let its pleasure through--

And when at Night--Our good Day done--
I guard My Master's Head-'
Tis better than the Eider-Duck's
Deep Pillow--to have shared--

To foe of His--I'm deadly foe--
None stir the second time--
On whom I lay a Yellow Eye--
Or an emphatic Thumb--

Though I than He--may longer live
He longer must--than I--
For I have but the power to kill,
Without--the power to die--

My Faith is larger than the Hills

766

My Faith is larger than the Hills-
So when the Hills decay-
My Faith must take the Purple Wheel
To show the Sun the way


'Tis first He steps upon the Vane-
And then-upon the Hill-
And then abroad the World He go
To do His Golden Will-

And if His Yellow feet should miss-
The Bird would not arise-
The Flowers would slumber on their Stems-
No Bells have Paradise-

How dare I, therefore, stint a faith
On which so vast depends-
Lest Firmament should fail for me-
The Rivet in the Bands

My best Acquaintances are those

932

My best Acquaintances are those
With Whom I spoke no Word-
The Stars that stated come to Town
Esteemed Me never rude
Although to their Celestial Call
I failed to make reply-
My constant-reverential Face
Sufficient Courtesy.

Must be a Woe

571

Must be a Woe-
A loss or so-
To bend the eye
Best Beauty's way


But-once aslant
It notes Delight
As difficult
As Stalactite

A Common Bliss
Were had for less-
The price-is
Even as the Grace-

Our lord-thought no
Extravagance
To pay-a Cross-