The Complete Poems E-Book

Emily Dickinson

• Herausgeber: tredition
• Kategorie: Geisteswissenschaft
• Sprache: Englisch
• Veröffentlichungsjahr: 2022

Seitenzahl: 680

Beschreibung

The Complete Poems - Emily Dickinson - Emily Elizabeth Dickinson (December 10, 1830 – May 15, 1886) was an American poet. Little-known during her life, she has since been regarded as one of the most important figures in American poetry. Dickinson was born in Amherst, Massachusetts, into a prominent family with strong ties to its community. After studying at the Amherst Academy for seven years in her youth, she briefly attended the Mount Holyoke Female Seminary before returning to her family's home in Amherst. Evidence suggests that Dickinson lived much of her life in isolation. Considered an eccentric by locals, she developed a penchant for white clothing and was known for her reluctance to greet guests or, later in life, to even leave her bedroom. Dickinson never married, and most friendships between her and others depended entirely upon correspondence. While Dickinson was a prolific writer, her only publications during her lifetime were 10 of her nearly 1,800 poems, and one letter. The poems published then were usually edited significantly to fit conventional poetic rules. Her poems were unique for her era. They contain short lines, typically lack titles, and often use slant rhyme as well as unconventional capitalization and punctuation. Many of her poems deal with themes of death and immortality, two recurring topics in letters to her friends, and also explore aesthetics, society, nature and spirituality. Although Dickinson's acquaintances were most likely aware of her writing, it was not until after her death in 1886—when Lavinia, Dickinson's younger sister, discovered her cache of poems—that her work became public. Her first collection of poetry was published in 1890 by personal acquaintances Thomas Wentworth Higginson and Mabel Loomis Todd, though both heavily edited the content. A 1998 article in The New York Times revealed that of the many edits made to Dickinson's work, the name "Susan" was often deliberately removed. At least eleven of Dickinson's poems were dedicated to sister-in-law Susan Huntington Gilbert Dickinson, though all the dedications were obliterated, presumably by Todd. A complete, and mostly unaltered, collection of her poetry became available for the first time when scholar Thomas H. Johnson published The Poems of Emily Dickinson in 1955.

Leseprobe

Emily Dickinson

The Complete Poems

1. Awake ye muses nine, sing me a strain divine

Awake ye muses nine, sing me a strain divine,Unwind the solemn twine, and tie my Valentine!Oh the Earth was made for lovers, for damsel, and hopeless swain,For sighing, and gentle whispering, and unity made of twain.All things do go a courting, in earth, or sea, or air,God hath made nothing single but thee in His world so fair!The bride, and then the bridegroom, the two, and then the one,Adam, and Eve, his consort, the moon, and then the sun;The life doth prove the precept, who obey shall happy be,Who will not serve the sovereign, be hanged on fatal tree.The high do seek the lowly, the great do seek the small,None cannot find who seeketh, on this terrestrial ball;The bee doth court the flower, the flower his suit receives,And they make merry wedding, whose guests are hundred leaves;The wind doth woo the branches, the branches they are won,And the father fond demandeth the maiden for his son.The storm doth walk the seashore humming a mournful tune,The wave with eye so pensive, looketh to see the moon,Their spirits meet together, they make their solemn vows,No more he singeth mournful, her sadness she doth lose.The worm doth woo the mortal, death claims a living bride,Night unto day is married, morn unto eventide;Earth is a merry damsel, and heaven a knight so true,And Earth is quite coquettish, and beseemeth in vain to sue.Now to the application, to the reading of the roll,To bringing thee to justice, and marshalling thy soul:Thou art a human solo, a being cold, and lone,Wilt have no kind companion, thou reap'st what thou hast sown.Hast never silent hours, and minutes all too long,And a deal of sad reflection, and wailing instead of song?There's Sarah, and Eliza, and Emeline so fair,And Harriet, and Susan, and she with curling hair!Thine eyes are sadly blinded, but yet thou mayest seeSix true, and comely maidens sitting upon the tree;Approach that tree with caution, then up it boldly climb,And seize the one thou lovest, nor care for space, or time!Then bear her to the greenwood, and build for her a bower,And give her what she asketh, jewel, or bird, or flower —And bring the fife, and trumpet, and beat upon the drum —And bid the world Goodmorrow, and go to glory home!

2. There is another sky

there is another skyever serene and fair,and there is another sunshine,tho' it be darkness there -never mind faded forests, Austin,never mind silent fields -here is a little forestwhose leaf is ever green -here is a brighter garden -where not a frost has been,in its unfading flowersI hear the bright bee hum,prithee, my Brother,into my garden come!

3. Sic transit gloria mundi

Sic transit gloria mundi"How doth the busy bee"Dum vivamus vivamusI stay mine enemy! —Oh veni vidi vici!Oh caput cap-a-pie!And oh "memento mori"When I am far from theeHurrah for Peter ParleyHurrrah for Daniel BooneThree cheers sir, for the gentlemanWho first observed the moon —Peter put up the sunshine!Pattie arrange the starsTell Luna, tea is waitingAnd call your brother Mars —Put down the apple AdamAnd come away with meSo shal't thou have a pippinFrom off my Father's tree!I climb the "Hill of Science"I "view the Landscape o'er"Such transcendental prospectI ne'er beheld before! —Unto the LegislatureMy country bids me go,I'll take my india rubbersIn case the wind should blow.During my educationIt was announced to meThat gravitation stumblingFell from an apple tree —The Earth opon it's axisWas once supposed to turnBy way of a gymnasticIn honor to the sun —It was the brave ColumbusA sailing o'er the tideWho notified the nationsOf where I would resideMortality is fatalGentility is fineRascality, heroicInsolvency, sublimeOur Fathers being wearyLaid down on Bunker HillAnd though full many a morn'gYet they are sleeping stillThe trumpet sir, shall wake themIn streams I see them riseEach with a solemn musketA marching to the skies!A coward will remain, Sir,Until the fight is done;But an immortal heroWill take his hat and run.Good bye Sir, I am goingMy country calleth meAllow me Sir, at partingTo wipe my weeping e'eIn token of our friendshipAccept this "Bonnie Doon"And when the hand that pluck'd itHath passed beyond the moonThe memory of my ashesWill consolation beThen farewell TuscaroraAnd farewell Sir, to thee.

4. On this wondrous sea

Write! Comrade, write!On this wondrous seaSailing silently,Ho! Pilot, ho!Knowest thou the shoreWhere no breakers roar -Where the storm is o'er?In the peaceful westMany the sails at rest -The anchors fast -Thither I pilot thee -Land Ho! Eternity!Ashore at last!

5. I have a Bird in spring

I have a Bird in springWhich for myself doth sing -The spring decoys.And as the summer nears -And as the Rose appears,Robin is gone.Yet do I not repineKnowing that Bird of mineThough flown -Learneth beyond the seaMelody new for meAnd will return.Fast in safer handHeld in a truer LandAre min -And though they now depart,Tell I my doubting heartThey're thine.In a serener Bright,In a more golden lightI seeEach little doubt and fear,Each little discord hereRemoved.Then will I not repine,Knowing that Bird of mineThough flownShall in distant treeBright melody for meReturn.

6. Frequently the woods are pink

Frequently the woods are pink —Frequently are brown.Frequently the hills undressBehind my native town.Oft a head is crestedI was wont to see —And as oft a crannyWhere it used to be —And the Earth — they tell me —On its axis turned!Wonderful Rotation!By but twelve performed!

7. The feet of people walking home

The feet of people walking homeWith gayer sandals go -The crocus - till she rises -The vassal of the snow -The lips at HallelujahLong years of practise bore -Till bye and bye, these BargemenWalked - singing - on the shorePearls are the Diver's farthingsExtorted form the sea -Pinions - the Seraph's wagon -Pedestrian once - as we -Night is the morning's canvas -Larceny - legacy -Death - but our rapt attentionTo immortality.My figures fail to tell meHow far the village lies -Whose peasants are the angels -Whose cantons dot the skies -My Classics vail their faces -My faith that Dark adores -Which from it's solemn abbeys -Such resurrection pours!

8. There is a word

There is a wordWhich bears a swordCan pierce an armed man -It hurls it's barbed syllablesAnd is mute again -But where it fellThe Saved will tellOn patriotic day,Some epauletted BrotherGave his breath away!Wherever runs the breathless sun -Wherever roams the day -There is it's noiseless onset -There is it's victory!Behold the keenest marksman-The most accomplished host!Time's sublimest targetIs a soul "forgot"!

9. Through lane it lay — through bramble —

Thro' lane it lay - thro' bramble -Thro' clearing, and thro' wood -Banditti often passed usOpon the lonely road -The wolf came peering curious -The Owl looked puzzled down -The Serpent's satin figureGlid stealthily along -The tempests touched our garments -The lightning's poinards gleamed -Fierce from the crag above usThe hungry vulture screamed -The satyr's fingers beckoned -The Valley murmured "Come" -These were the mates -This was the roadThese Children fluttered home.

10. My wheel is in the dark!

My Wheel is in the dark.I cannot see a spoke -Yet know it's dripping feetGo round and round.My foot is on the tide -An unfrequented roadYet have all roadsA "Clearing" at the end.Some have resigned the Loom -Some - in the busy tombFind quaint employ.Some with new - stately feetPass royal thro' the gateFlinging the problem back, at you and I.

11. I never told the buried gold

I never told the buried goldOpon the hill that lies -I saw the sun, his plunder done -Crouch low to guard his prize -He stood as nearAs stood you hear -A pace had been between -Did but a snake bisect the brakeMy life had forfeit been.That was a wondrous booty.I hope 'twas honest gained -Those were the fairest ingotsThat ever kissed the spade.Whether to keep the secret -Whether to reveal -Whether while I ponderKidd may sudden sail -Could a shrewd advise meWe might e'en divide -Should a shrewd betray me -"Atropos" decide -

12. The morns are meeker than they were —

The morns are meeker than they were -The nuts are getting brown -The berry's cheek is plumper -The Rose is out of town -The maple wears a gayer scarf -The field - a scarlet gown -Lest I sh'd seem old fashionedI'll put a trinket on!

13. Sleep is supposed to be

Sleep is supposed to be,By souls of sanity,The shutting of the eye.Sleep is the station grandDown which on either handThe hosts of witness stand !Morn is supposed to be,By people of degree,The breaking of the day.Morning has not occurred !That shall aurora beEast of eternity ;One with the banner gay,One in the red array, —That is the break of day.

14. One Sister have I in our house,

One Sister have I in our house -And one, a hedge away.There's only one recorded,But both belong to me.One came the road that I came -And wore my last year's gown -The other, as a bird her nest,Builded our hearts among.She did not sing as we did -It was a different tune -Herself to her a musicAs Bumble bee of June.Today is far from Childhood -But up and down the hillsI held her hand the tighter -Which shortened all the miles -And still her humThe year among,Deceives the Butterfly;Still in her EyeThe Violets lieMouldered this many May.I spilt the dew -But took the morn;I chose this single starFrom out the wide night's numbers -Sue - forevermore!

15. The Guest is gold and crimson —

The Guest is gold and crimson —An Opal guest and gray —Of Ermine is his doublet —His Capuchin gay —He reaches town at nightfall —He stops at every door —Who looks for him at morningI pray him too — exploreThe Lark's pure territory —Or the Lapwing's shore!

16. I would distil a cup,

I would distil a cup,And bear to all my friends,Drinking to her no more astir,By beck, or burn, or moor!

17. Baffled for just a day or two —

Baffled for just a day or two —Embarrassed — not afraid —Encounter in my gardenAn unexpected Maid.She beckons, and the woods start —She nods, and all begin —Surely, such a countryI was never in!

18. The Gentian weaves her fringes —

The Gentian weaves her fringes —The Maple's loom is red —My departing blossomsObviate parade.A brief, but patient illness —An hour to prepare,And one below this morningIs where the angels are —It was a short procession,The Bobolink was there —An aged Bee addressed us —And then we knelt in prayer —We trust that she was willing —We ask that we may be.Summer — Sister — Seraph!Let us go with thee!In the name of the Bee —And of the Butterfly —And of the Breeze — Amen!

19. A sepal, petal, and a thorn

A sepal, petal, and a thornUpon a common summer's morn —A flask of Dew — A Bee or two —A Breeze — a caper in the trees —And I'm a Rose!

20. Distrustful of the Gentian —

Distrustful of the Gentian —And just to turn away,The fluttering of her fringesChid my perfidy —Weary for my —————I will singing go —I shall not feel the sleet — then —I shall not fear the snow.Flees so the phantom meadowBefore the breathless Bee —So bubble brooks in desertsOn Ears that dying lie —Burn so the Evening SpiresTo Eyes that Closing go —Hangs so distant Heaven —To a hand below.

21. We lose — because we win —

We lose — because we win —Gamblers — recollecting whichToss their dice again!

22. All these my banners be.

All these my banners be.I sow my pageantryIn May —It rises train by train —Then sleeps in state again —My chancel — all the plainToday.To lose — if one can find again —To miss — if one shall meet —The Burglar cannot rob — then —The Broker cannot cheat.So build the hillocks gailyThou little spade of mineLeaving nooks for DaisyAnd for Columbine —You and I the secretOf the Crocus know —Let us chant it softly —"There is no more snow!"To him who keeps an Orchis' heart —The swamps are pink with June.

23. I had a guinea golden —

I had a guinea golden -I lost it in the sand -And tho' the sum was simpleAnd pounds were in the land -Still, had it such a valueUnto my frugal eye -That when I could not find it-I sat me down to sigh.I had a crimson Robin -Who sang full many a dayBut when the woods were painted -He - too - did fly away -Time brought me other Robins -Their ballads were the same -Still, for my missing TroubadourI kept the "house at hame".I had a star in heaven -One "Pleiad" was it's name -And when I was not heeding,It wandered from the same -And tho' the skies are crowded -And all the night ashine -I do not care about it -Since none of them are mine -My story has a moral -I have a missing friend -"Pleiad" it's name - and Robin -And guinea in the sand -And when this mournful dittyAccompanied with tear -Shall meet the eye of traitorIn country far from here -Grant that repentance solemnMay seize opon his mind -And he no consolationBeneath the sun may find.

24. There is a morn by men unseen —

There is a morn by men unseen -Whose maids opon remoter greenKeep their seraphic May -And all day long, with dance and game,And gambo! I may never name -Employ their holiday.Here to light measure, move the feetWhich walk no more the village street -Nor by the wood are found -Here are the birds that sought the sunWhen last year's distaff idle hungAnd summer's brows were bound.Ne'er saw I such a wondrous scene -Ne'er such a ring on such a green -Nor so serene array -As if the stars some summer nightShould swing their cups of Chrysolite -And revel till the day -Like thee to dance - like thee to sing -People opon that mystic green -I ask, each new May morn.I wait thy far - fantastic bells -Announcing me in other dells -Unto the different dawn!

25. She slept beneath a tree —

She slept beneath a tree —Remembered but by me.I touched her Cradle mute —She recognized the foot —Put on her carmine suitAnd see!

26. It's all I have to bring today —

It's all I have to bring today —This, and my heart beside —This, and my heart, and all the fields —And all the meadows wide —Be sure you count — should I forgetSome one the sum could tell —This, and my heart, and all the BeesWhich in the Clover dwell.

27. Morns like these — we parted —

Morns like these - we partedNoons like these - she rose!Fluttering first - then firmerTo her fair repose -Never did she lisp itAnd 'twas not for me -She was mute for transportI, for agony!Till the evening nearingOne the shutters drew -Quick! a sharper rustling!And this linnet flew!

28. So has a Daisy vanished

So has a Daisy vanishedFrom the fields today -So tiptoed many a slipperTo Paradise away -Oozed so, in crimson bubblesDay's departing tide -Blooming - tripping - flowing -Are ye then with God?

29. If those I loved were lost

If those I loved were lost,the crier's voice would tell me -If those I loved were found,the bells of Ghent would ring,Did those I loved repose,the Daisy would impel me -Philip when bewildered -bore his riddle in -

30. Adrift! A little boat adrift!

Adrift! A little boat adrift!And night is coming down!Will no one guide a little boatUnto the nearest town?So Sailors say — on yesterday —Just as the dusk was brownOne little boat gave up its strifeAnd gurgled down and down.So angels say — on yesterday —Just as the dawn was redOne little boat — o'erspent with gales —Retrimmed its masts — redecked its sails —And shot — exultant on!

31. Summer for thee, grant I may be

Summer for thee, grant I may beWhen Summer days are flown!Thy music still, when WhippowilAnd Oriole - are done!For thee to bloom, I'll skip the tombAnd row my blossoms o'er!Pray gather me -   Anemone -Thy flower - forevermore!

32. When Roses cease to bloom, Sir,

When Roses cease to bloom, Sir,And Violets are done —When Bumblebees in solemn flightHave passed beyond the Sun —The hand that paused to gatherUpon this Summer's dayWill idle lie — in Auburn —Then take my flowers — pray!

33. If recollecting were forgetting,

Oh if remembering were forgetting -Then I remember not!And if forgetting - recollecting -How near I had forgot!And if to miss - were merry -And to mourn were gay,How very blithe the maidenWho gathered these today!

34. Garland for Queens, may be —

Garlands for Queens, may be -Laurels - for rare degreeOf soul or sword -Ah - but remembering me -Ah - but remembering thee -Nature in chivalry -Nature in charity -Nature in equity -The Rose ordained!

35. Nobody knows this little Rose —

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 it's breast to lie.Only a bird will wonder;Only a breeze will sigh;Ah! little rose, how easyFor such as thee to die!

36. Snow flakes.

Snow flakes.I counted till they danced soTheir slippers leaped the town,And then I took a pencilTo note the rebels down.And then they grew so jollyI did resign the prig,And ten of my once stately toesAre marshalled for a jig!

37. Before the ice is in the pools —

Before the ice is in the pools —Before the skaters go,Or any check at nightfallIs tarnished by the snow —Before the fields have finished,Before the Christmas tree,Wonder upon wonderWill arrive to me!What we touch the hems ofOn a summer's day —What is only walkingJust a bridge away —That which sings so — speaks so —When there's no one here —Will the frock I wept inAnswer me to wear?

38. By such and such an offering

By such and such an offeringTo Mr. So and So,The web of live woven —So martyrs albums show!

39. It did not surprise me —

It did not surprise me —So I said — or thought —She will stir her pinionsAnd the nest forgot,Traverse broader forests —Build in gayer boughs,Breathe in Ear more modernGod's old fashioned vows —This was but a Birdling —What and if it beOne within my bosomHad departed me?This was but a story —What and if indeedThere were just such coffinIn the heart instead?

40. When I count the seeds

When I count the seedsThat are sown beneath,To bloom so, bye and bye —When I con the peopleLain so low,To be received as high —When I believe the gardenMortal shall not see —Pick by faith its blossomAnd avoid its Bee,I can spare this summer, unreluctantly.

41. I robbed the Woods —

I robbed the Woods —The trusting Woods.The unsuspecting TreesBrought out their Burs and mossesMy fantasy to please.I scanned their trinkets curious — I grasped — I bore away —What will the solemn Hemlock —What will the Oak tree say?

42. A Day! Help! Help! Another Day!

A Day! Help! Help! Another Day!Your prayers, oh Passer by!From such a common ball as thisMight date a Victory!From marshallings as simpleThe flags of nations swang.Steady — my soul: What issuesUpon thine arrow hang!

43. Could live — did live —

Could live — did live —Could die — did die —Could smile upon the wholeThrough faith in one he met not,To introduce his soul.Could go from scene familiarTo an untraversed spot —Could contemplate the journeyWith unpuzzled heart —Such trust had one among us,Among us not today —We who saw the launchingNever sailed the Bay!

44. If she had been the Mistletoe

If she had been the MistletoeAnd I had been the Rose —How gay upon your tableMy velvet life to close —Since I am of the Druid,And she is of the dew —I'll deck Tradition's buttonhole —And send the Rose to you.

45. There's something quieter than sleep

There's something quieter than sleepWithin this inner room!It wears a sprig upon its breast —And will not tell its name.Some touch it, and some kiss it —Some chafe its idle hand —It has a simple gravityI do not understand!I would not weep if I were they —How rude in one to sob!Might scare the quiet fairyBack to her native wood!While simple-hearted neighborsChat of the "Early dead" —We — prone to periphrasisRemark that Birds have fled!

46. I keep my pledge.

I keep my pledge.I was not called —Death did not notice me.I bring my Rose.I plight again,By every sainted Bee —By Daisy called from hillside —by Bobolink from lane.Blossom and I —Her oath, and mine —Will surely come again.

47. Heart! We will forget him!

Heart! We will forget him!You and I — tonight!You may forget the warmth he gave —I will forget the light!When you have done, pray tell meThat I may straight begin!Haste! lest while you're laggingI remember him!

48. Once more, my now bewildered Dove

Once more, my now bewildered DoveBestirs her puzzled wingsOnce more her mistress, on the deepHer troubled question flings —Thrice to the floating casementThe Patriarch's bird returned,Courage! My brave Columba!There may yet be land

49. I never lost as much but twice,

I never lost as much but twice,And that was in the sod ;Twice have I stood a beggarBefore the door of God !Angels, twice descending,Reimbursed my store.Burglar, banker, father,I am poor once more !

50. I haven't told my garden yet —

I haven't told my garden yet —Lest that should conquer me.I haven't quite the strength nowTo break it to the Bee —I will not name it in the streetFor shops would stare at me —That one so shy — so ignorantShould have the face to die.The hillsides must not know it —Where I have rambled so —Nor tell the loving forestsThe day that I shall go —Nor lisp it at the table —Nor heedless by the wayHint that within the RiddleOne will walk today —

51. I often passed the village

I often passed the villageWhen going home from school —And wondered what they did there —And why it was so still —I did not know the year then —In which my call would come —Earlier, by the Dial,Than the rest have gone.It's stiller than the sundown.It's cooler than the dawn —The Daisies dare to come here —And birds can flutter down —So when you are tired —Or perplexed — or cold —Trust the loving promiseUnderneath the mould,Cry "it's I," "take Dollie,"And I will enfold!

52. Whether my bark went down at sea —

Whether my bark went down at sea,Whether she met with gales,Whether to isles enchantedShe bent her docile sails ;By what mystic mooringShe is held to-day, —This is the errand of the eyeOut upon the bay.

53. Taken from men — this morning —

Taken from men — this morning —Carried by men today —Met by the Gods with banners —Who marshalled her away —One little maid — from playmates —One little mind from school —There must be guests in Eden —All the rooms are full —Far — as the East from Even —Dim — as the border star —Courtiers quaint, in KingdomsOur departed are.

54. If I should die,

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 earlyAnd Bees as bustling go —One might depart at optionFrom enterprise below!'Tis sweet to know that stocks will standWhen we with Daisies lie —That Commerce will continue —And Trades as briskly fly —It makes the parting tranquilAnd keeps the soul serene —That gentlemen so sprightlyConduct the pleasing scene!

55. By Chivalries as tiny,

By Chivalries as tiny,A Blossom, or a Book,The seeds of smiles are planted —Which blossom in the dark.

56. If I should cease to bring a Rose

If I should cease to bring a RoseUpon a festal day,'Twill be because beyond the RoseI have been called away —If I should cease to take the namesMy buds commemorate —'Twill be because Death's fingerClaps my murmuring lip!

57. To venerate the simple days

To venerate the simple daysWhich lead the seasons by,Needs but to rememberThat from you or I,They may take the trifleTermed mortality!

58. Delayed till she had ceased to know —

Delayed till she had ceased to know —Delayed till in its vest of snowHer loving bosom lay —An hour behind the fleeting breath —Later by just an hour than Death —Oh lagging Yesterday!Could she have guessed that it would be —Could but a crier of the joyHave climbed the distant hill —Had not the bliss so slow a paceWho knows but this surrendered faceWere undefeated still?Oh if there may departing beAny forgot by VictoryIn her imperial round —Show them this meek appareled thingThat could not stop to be a king —Doubtful if it be crowned!

59. A little East of Jordan,

A little East of Jordan,Evangelists record,A Gymnast and an AngelDid wrestle long and hard —Till morning touching mountain —And Jacob, waxing strong,The Angel begged permissionTo Breakfast — to return —Not so, said cunning Jacob!"I will not let thee goExcept thou bless me" — Stranger!The which acceded to —Light swung the silver fleeces"Peniel" Hills beyond,And the bewildered GymnastFound he had worsted God!

60. Like her the Saints retire,

Like her the Saints retire,In their Chapeaux of fire,Martial as she!Like her the Evenings stealPurple and CochinealAfter the Day!"Departed" — both — they say!i.e. gathered away,Not found,Argues the Aster still —Reasons the DaffodilProfound!

61. Papa above!

Papa above!Regard a MouseO'erpowered by the Cat!Reserve within thy kingdomA "Mansion" for the Rat!Snug in seraphic CupboardsTo nibble all the dayWhile unsuspecting CyclesWheel solemnly away!

62. "Sown in dishonor"!

"Sown in dishonor"!Ah! Indeed!May this "dishonor" be?If I were half so fine myselfI'd notice nobody!"Sown in corruption"!Not so fast!Apostle is askew!Corinthians 1. 15. narratesA Circumstance or two!

63. If pain for peace prepares

If pain for peace preparesLo, what "Augustan" yearsOur feet await!If springs from winter rise,Can the AnemonesBe reckoned up?If night stands fast — then noonTo gird us for the sun,What gaze!When from a thousand skiesOn our developed eyesNoons blaze!

64. Some Rainbow — coming from the Fair!

Some Rainbow — coming from the Fair!Some Vision of the World Cashmere —I confidently see!Or else a Peacock's purple TrainFeather by feather — on the plainFritters itself away!The dreamy Butterflies bestir!Lethargic pools resume the whirOf last year's sundered tune!From some old Fortress on the sunBaronial Bees — march — one by one —In murmuring platoon!The Robins stand as thick todayAs flakes of snow stood yesterday —On fence — and Roof — and Twig!The Orchis binds her feather onFor her old lover - Don the Sun!Revisiting the Bog!Without Commander! Countless! Still!The Regiments of Wood and HillIn bright detachment stand!Behold! Whose Multitudes are these?The children of whose turbaned seas —Or what Circassian Land?

65. I can't tell you — but you feel it —

I can't tell you — but you feel it —Nor can you tell me —Saints, with ravished slate and pencilSolve our April Day!Sweeter than a vanished frolicFrom a vanished green!Swifter than the hoofs of HorsemenRound a Ledge of dream!Modest, let us walk among itWith our faces veiled —As they say polite ArchangelsDo in meeting God!Not for me — to prate about it!Not for you — to sayTo some fashionable Lady"Charming April Day"!Rather — Heaven's "Peter Parley"!By which Children slowTo sublimer RecitationAre prepared to go!

66. So from the mould

So from the mouldScarlet and GoldMany a Bulb will rise —Hidden away, cunningly, From sagacious eyes.So from CocoonMany a WormLeap so Highland gay,Peasants like me,Peasants like TheeGaze perplexedly!

67. Success is counted sweetest

SUCCESS is counted sweetestBy those who ne'er succeed.To comprehend a nectarRequires sorest need.

Not one of all the purple hostWho took the flag to-dayCan tell the definition,So clear, of victory,

As he, defeated, dying,On whose forbidden earThe distant strains of triumphBreak, agonized and clear.

68. Ambition cannot find him.

Ambition cannot find him.Affection doesn't knowHow many leagues of nowhereLie between them now.Yesterday, undistinguished!Eminent TodayFor our mutual honor, Immortality!

69. Low at my problem bending,

Low at my problem bending,Another problem comes —Larger than mine — Serener —Involving statelier sums.I check my busy pencil,My figures file away.Wherefore, my baffled fingersThy perplexity?

70. "Arcturus" is his other name —

"Arcturus" is his other name —I'd rather call him "Star."It's very mean of ScienceTo go and interfere!I slew a worm the other day —A "Savant" passing byMurmured "Resurgam" — "Centipede"!"Oh Lord — how frail are we"!I pull a flower from the woods —A monster with a glassComputes the stamens in a breath —And has her in a "class"!Whereas I took the ButterflyAforetime in my hat —He sits erect in "Cabinets" —The Clover bells forgot.What once was "Heaven" Is "Zenith" now —Where I proposed to goWhen Time's brief masquerade was doneIs mapped and charted too.What if the poles should frisk aboutAnd 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" thereWon't be "new fashioned" when I come —And laugh at me — and stare —I hope the Father in the skiesWill lift his little girl —Old fashioned — naught — everything —Over the stile of "Pearl."

71. A throe upon the features —

A throe upon the features —A hurry in the breath —An ecstasy of partingDenominated "Death" —An anguish at the mentionWhich when to patience grown,I've known permission givenTo rejoin its own.

72. Glowing is her Bonnet,

Glowing is her Bonnet,Glowing is her Cheek,Glowing is her Kirtle,Yet she cannot speak.Better as the DaisyFrom the Summer hillVanish unrecordedSave by tearful rill —Save by loving sunriseLooking for her face.Save by feet unnumberedPausing at the place.

73. Who never lost, are unprepared

Who never lost, are unpreparedA Coronet to find!Who never thirstedFlagons, and Cooling Tamarind!Who never climbed the weary league —Can such a foot exploreThe purple territoriesOn Pizarro's shore?How many Legions overcome —The Emperor will say?How many Colors takenOn Revolution Day?How many Bullets bearest?Hast Thou the Royal scar?Angels! Write "Promoted"On this Soldier's brow!

74. A Lady red — amid the Hill

A Lady red — amid the HillHer annual secret keeps!A Lady white, within the FieldIn placid Lily sleeps!The tidy Breezes, with their Brooms —Sweep vale — and hill — and tree!Prithee, My pretty Housewives!Who may expected be?The Neighbors do not yet suspect!The Woods exchange a smile!Orchard, and Buttercup, and Bird —In such a little while!And yet, how still the Landscape stands!How nonchalant the Hedge!As if the "Resurrection"Were nothing very strange!

75. She died at play,

She died at play,Gambolled awayHer lease of spotted hours,Then sank as gaily as a TurkUpon a Couch of flowers.Her ghost strolled softly o'er the hillYesterday, and Today,Her vestments as the silver fleece —Her countenance as spray.

76. Exultation is the going

Exultation is the goingOf an inland soul to sea,Past the houses — past the headlands —Into deep Eternity —Bred as we, among the mountains,Can the sailor understandThe divine intoxicationOf the first league out from land?

77. I never hear the word "escape"

I never hear the word "escape"Without a quicker blood,A sudden expectationA flying attitude!I never hear of prisons broadBy soldiers battered down,But I tug childish at my barsOnly to fail again!

78. A poor — torn heart — a tattered heart —

A poor — torn heart — a tattered heart —That sat it down to rest —Nor noticed that the Ebbing DayFlowed silver to the West —Nor noticed Night did soft descend —Nor Constellation burn —Intent upon the visionOf latitudes unknown.The angels — happening that wayThis dusty heart espied —Tenderly took it up from toilAnd carried it to God —There — sandals for the Barefoot —There — gathered from the gales —Do the blue havens by the handLead the wandering Sails.

79. Going to Heaven!

Going to Heaven!I don't know when —Pray do not ask me how!Indeed I'm too astonishedTo think of answering you!Going to Heaven!How dim it sounds!And yet it will be doneAs sure as flocks go home at nightUnto the Shepherd's arm!Perhaps you're going too!Who knows?If you should get there firstSave just a little space for meClose to the two I lost —The smallest "Robe" will fit meAnd just a bit of "Crown" —For you know we do not mind our dressWhen we are going home —I'm glad I don't believe itFor it would stop my breath —And I'd like to look a little moreAt such a curious Earth!I'm glad they did believe itWhom I have never foundSince the might Autumn afternoonI left them in the ground.

80. Our lives are Swiss —

Our lives are Swiss —So still — so Cool —Till some odd afternoonThe Alps neglect their CurtainsAnd we look farther on!Italy stands the other side!While like a guard between —The solemn Alps —The siren AlpsForever intervene!

81. We should not mind so small a flower —

We should not mind so small a flower —Except it quiet bringOur little garden that we lostBack to the Lawn again.So spicy her Carnations nod —So drunken, reel her Bees —So silver steal a hundred flutesFrom out a hundred trees —That whoso sees this little flowerBy faith may clear beholdThe Bobolinks around the throneAnd Dandelions gold.

82. Whose cheek is this?

Whose cheek is this?What rosy faceHas lost a blush today?I found her — "pleiad" — in the woodsAnd bore her safe away.Robins, in the traditionDid cover such with leaves,But which the cheek —And which the pallMy scrutiny deceives.

83. Heart, not so heavy as mine

Heart, not so heavy as mineWending late home —As it passed my windowWhistled itself a tune —A careless snatch — a ballad — A ditty of the street —Yet to my irritated EarAn Anodyne so sweet —It was as if a BobolinkSauntering this wayCarolled, and paused, and carolled —Then bubbled slow away!It was as if a chirping brookUpon a dusty way —Set bleeding feet to minuetsWithout the knowing why!Tomorrow, night will come again —Perhaps, weary and sore —Ah Bugle! By my windowI pray you pass once more.

84. Her breast is fit for pearls,

Her breast is fit for pearls,But I was not a "Diver" —Her brow is fit for thronesBut I have not a crest.Her heart is fit for home —I — a Sparrow — build thereSweet of twigs and twineMy perennial nest.

85. "They have not chosen me," he said,

"They have not chosen me," he said,"But I have chosen them!"Brave — Broken hearted statement —Uttered in Bethlehem!I could not have told it,But since Jesus dared —Sovereign! Know a DaisyThey dishonor shared!

86. South Winds jostle them —

South Winds jostle them —Bumblebees come —Hover — hesitate —Drink, and are gone —Butterflies pauseOn their passage Cashmere —I — softly plucking,Present them here!

87. A darting fear — a pomp — a tear —

A darting fear — a pomp — a tear —A waking on a mornTo find that what one waked for,Inhales the different dawn.

88. As by the dead we love to sit,

As by the dead we love to sit,Become so wondrous dear —As for the lost we grappleTho' all the rest are here —In broken mathematicsWe estimate our prizeVast — in its fading rationTo our penurious eyes!

89. Some things that fly there be —

Some things that fly there be —Birds — Hours — the Bumblebee —Of these no Elegy.Some things that stay there be —Grief — Hills — Eternity —Nor this behooveth me.There are that resting, rise.Can I expound the skies?How still the Riddle lies!

90. Within my reach!

Within my reach !I could have touched !I might have chanced that way !Soft sauntered through the village,Sauntered as soft away !So unsuspected violetsWithin the fields lie low ;Too late for striving fingersThat passed, an hour ago.

91. So bashful when I spied her!

So bashful when I spied her,So pretty, so ashamed !So hidden in her leaflets,Lest anybody find ;So breathless till I passed her,So helpless when I turnedAnd bore her, struggling, blushing,Her simple haunts beyond !For whom I robbed the dingle,For whom betrayed the dell,Many will doubtless ask me,But I shall never tell !

92. My friend must be a Bird —

My friend must be a Bird —Because it flies!Mortal, my friend must be,Because it dies!Barbs has it, like a Bee!Ah, curious friend!Thou puzzlest me!

93. Went up a year this evening!

Went up a year this evening!I recollect it well!Amid no bells nor bravoesThe bystanders will tell!Cheerful — as to the village —Tranquil — as to repose —Chastened — as to the ChapelThis humble Tourist rose!Did not talk of returning!Alluded to no timeWhen, were the gales propitious —We might look for him!Was grateful for the RosesIn life's diverse bouquet —Talked softly of new speciesTo pick another day;Beguiling thus the wonderThe wondrous nearer drew —Hands bustled at the moorings —The crown respectful grew —Ascended from our visionTo Countenances new!A Difference — A Daisy —Is all the rest I knew!

94. Angels, in the early morning

Angels in the early morningMay be seen the dews among,Stooping, plucking, smiling, flying :Do the buds to them belong ?Angels when the sun is hottestMay be seen the sands among,Stooping, plucking, sighing, flying ;Parched the flowers they bear along.

95. My nosegays are for Captives —

My nosegays are for Captives —Dim — expectant eyes,Fingers denied the plucking,Patient till Paradise.To such, if they should whisperOf morning and the moor,They bear no other errand,And I, no other prayer.

96. Sexton! My Master's sleeping here.

Sexton! My Master's sleeping here.Pray lead me to his bed!I came to build the Bird's nest,And sow the Early seed —That when the snow creeps slowlyFrom off his chamber door —Daisies point the way there —And the Troubadour.

97. The rainbow never tells me

The rainbow never tells meThat gust and storm are by,Yet is she more convincingThan Philosophy.My flowers turn from Forums —Yet eloquent declareWhat Cato couldn't prove meExcept the birds were here!

98. One dignity delays for all —

One dignity delays for all,One mitred afternoon.None can avoid this purple,None evade this crown.Coach it insures, and footmen,Chamber and state and throng ;Bells, also, in the village,As we ride grand along.What dignified attendants,What service when we pause !How loyally at partingTheir hundred hats they raise !How pomp surpassing ermine,When simple you and IPresent our meek escutcheon,And claim the rank to die !

99. New feet within my garden go —

New feet within my garden go,New fingers stir the sod ;A troubadour upon the elmBetrays the solitude.New children play upon the green,New weary sleep below ;And still the pensive spring returns,And still the punctual snow !

100. A science — so the Savants say,

A science — so the Savants say,"Comparative Anatomy" —By which a single bone —Is made a secret to unfoldOf some rare tenant of the mold,Else perished in the stone —So to the eye prospective led,This meekest flower of the meadUpon a winter's day,Stands representative in goldOf Rose and Lily, manifold,And countless Butterfly!

101. Will there really be a "Morning"?

Will there really be a "Morning"?Is there such a thing as "Day"?Could I see it from the mountainsIf I were as tall as they?Has it feet like Water lilies?Has it feathers like a Bird?Is it brought from famous countriesOf which I have never heard?Oh some Scholar! Oh some Sailor!Oh some Wise Men from the skies!Please to tell a little PilgrimWhere the place called "Morning" lies!

102. Great Caesar! Condescend

Great Caesar! CondescendThe Daisy, to receive,Gathered by Cato's Daughter,With your majestic leave!

103. I have a King, who does not speak —

I have a King, who does not speak —So — wondering — thro' the hours meekI trudge the day away —Half glad when it is night, and sleep,If, haply, thro' a dream, to peepIn parlors, shut by day.And if I do — when morning comes —It is as if a hundred drumsDid 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 BirdWithin the Orchard, is not heard,And I omit to pray"Father, thy will be done" todayFor my will goes the other way,And it were perjury!

104. Where I have lost, I softer tread —

Where I have lost, I softer tread —I sow sweet flower from garden bed —I pause above that vanished headAnd mourn.Whom I have lost, I pious guardFrom accent harsh, or ruthless word —Feeling as if their pillow heard,Though stone!When I have lost, you'll know by this —A Bonnet black — A dusk surplice —A little tremor in my voice Like this!Why, I have lost, the people knowWho dressed in flocks of purest snowWent home a century agoNext Bliss!

105. To hang our head — ostensibly —

To hang our head — ostensibly —And subsequent, to findThat such was not the postureOf our immortal mind —Affords the sly presumptionThat in so dense a fuzz —You — too — take Cobweb attitudesUpon a plane of Gauze!

106. The Daisy follows soft the Sun —

The daisy follows soft the sun,    And when his golden walk is done,  Sits shyly at his feet.He, walking, finds the flower near."Wherefore, marauder, art thou here ?  "Because, sir, love is sweet !"We are the flower, Thou the sun !Forgive us, if as days decline,  We nearer steal to Thee, —Enamoured of the parting west,The peace, the flight, the amethyst,  Night's possibility !

107. 'Twas such a little — little boat

'Twas such a little — little boatThat toddled down the bay!'Twas such a gallant — gallant seaThat beckoned it away!'Twas such a greedy, greedy waveThat licked it from the Coast —Nor ever guessed the stately sailsMy little craft was lost!

108. Surgeons must be very careful

Surgeons must be very carefulWhen they take the knife!Underneath their fine incisionsStirs the Culprit — Life!

109. By a flower — By a letter —

By a flower — By a letter —By a nimble love —If I weld the Rivet faster —Final fast — above —Never mind my breathless Anvil!Never mind Repose!Never mind the sooty facesTugging at the Forge!

110. Artists wrestled here!

Artists wrestled here!Lo, a tint Cashmere!Lo, a Rose!Student of the Year!For the easel hereSay Repose!

111. The Bee is not afraid of me.

The bee is not afraid of me,I know the butterfly ;The pretty people in the woodsReceive me cordially.The brooks laugh louder when I come,The breezes madder play.Wherefore, mine eyes, thy silver mists ?Wherefore, O summer's day ?

112. Where bells no more affright the morn —

Where bells no more affright the morn —Where scrabble never comes —Where very nimble GentlemenAre forced to keep their rooms —Where tired Children placid sleepThro' Centuries of noonThis place is Bliss — this town is Heaven —Please, Pater, pretty soon!"Oh could we climb where Moses stood,And view the Landscape o'er"Not Father's bells — nor Factories,Could scare us any more!

113. Our share of night to bear —

OUR share of night to bear,Our share of morning,Our blank in bliss to fill,Our blank in scorning.

Here a star, and there a star,Some lose their way.Here a mist, and there a mist,Afterwards—day!

114. Good night, because we must,

Good night, because we must,How intricate the dust!I would go, to know!Oh incognito!Saucy, Saucy SeraphTo elude me so!Father! they won't tell me,Won't you tell them to?

115. What Inn is this

What Inn is thisWhere for the nightPeculiar Traveller comes?Who is the Landlord?Where the maids?Behold, what curious rooms!No ruddy fires on the hearth —No brimming Tankards flow —Necromancer! Landlord!Who are these below?

116. I had some things that I called mine —

I had some things that I called mine —And God, that he called his,Till, recently a rival ClaimDisturbed these amities.The property, my garden,Which having sown with care,He claims the pretty acre,And sends a Bailiff there.The station of the partiesForbids publicity,But Justice is sublimerThan arms, or pedigree.I'll institute an "Action" —I'll vindicate the law —Jove! Choose your counsel —I retain "Shaw"!

117. In rags mysterious as these

In rags mysterious as theseThe shining Courtiers go —Veiling the purple, and the plumes —Veiling the ermine so.Smiling, as they request an alms —At some imposing door!Smiling when we walk barefootUpon their golden floor!

118. My friend attacks my friend!

My friend attacks my friend!Oh Battle picturesque!Then I turn Soldier too,And he turns Satirist!How martial is this place!Had I a mighty gunI think I'd shoot the human raceAnd then to glory run!

119. Talk with prudence to a Beggar

Talk with prudence to a BeggarOf "Potose," and the mines!Reverently, to the HungryOf your viands, and your wines!Cautious, hint to any CaptiveYou have passed enfranchised feet!Anecdotes of air in DungeonsHave sometimes proved deadly sweet!

120. If this is "fading"

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 nightHow proud to shut the eye!Good Evening, gentle Fellow men!Peacock presumes to die!

121. As Watchers hang upon the East,

As Watchers hang upon the East,As Beggars revel at a feastBy savory Fancy spread —As brooks in deserts babble sweetOn ear too far for the delight,Heaven beguiles the tired.As that same watcher, when the EastOpens the lid of AmethystAnd lets the morning go —That Beggar, when an honored Guest,Those thirsty lips to flagons pressed,Heaven to us, if true.

122. A something in a summer's Day

A something in a summer's DayAs slow her flambeaux burn awayWhich solemnizes me.A something in a summer's noon —A depth — an Azure — a perfume —Transcending ecstasy.And still within a summer's nightA something so transporting brightI clap my hands to see —Then veil my too inspecting faceLets such a subtle — shimmering graceFlutter too far for me —The wizard fingers never rest —The purple brook within the breastStill chafes its narrow bed —Still rears the East her amber Flag —Guides still the sun along the CragHis Caravan of Red —So looking on — the night — the mornConclude the wonder gay —And I meet, coming thro' the dewsAnother summer's Day!

123. Many cross the Rhine

Many cross the RhineIn this cup of mine.Sip old Frankfort airFrom my brown Cigar.

124. In lands I never saw — they say

In lands I never saw — they sayImmortal Alps look down —Whose Bonnets touch the firmament —Whose Sandals touch the town —Meek at whose everlasting feetA Myriad Daisy play —Which, Sir, are you and which am IUpon an August day?

125. For each ecstatic instant

For each ecstatic instantWe must an anguish payIn keen and quivering ratioTo the ecstasy.For each beloved hourSharp pittances of years —Bitter contested farthings —And Coffers heaped with Tears!

126. To fight aloud, is very brave —

To fight aloud is very brave,But gallanter, I know,Who charge within the bosom,The cavalry of woe.Who win, and nations do not see,Who fall, and none observe,Whose dying eyes no countryRegards with patriot love.We trust, in plumed procession,For such the angels go,Rank after rank, with even feetAnd uniforms of snow.

127. "Houses" — so the Wise Men tell me —

"Houses" — so the Wise Men tell me —"Mansions"! Mansions must be warm!Mansions cannot let the tears in,Mansions must exclude the storm!"Many Mansions," by "his Father,"I don't know him; snugly built!Could the Children find the way there —Some, would even trudge tonight!

128. Bring me the sunset in a cup,

Bring me the sunset in a cup,Reckon the morning's flagons upAnd say how many Dew,Tell me how far the morning leaps —Tell me what time the weaver sleepsWho spun the breadth of blue!Write me how many notes there beIn the new Robin's ecstasyAmong 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 spheresBy withes of supple blue?Whose fingers string the stalactite —Who counts the wampum of the nightTo see that none is due?Who built this little Alban HouseAnd shut the windows down so closeMy spirit cannot see?Who'll let me out some gala dayWith implements to fly away,Passing Pomposity?

129. Cocoon above! Cocoon below!

Cocoon above! Cocoon below!Stealthy Cocoon, why hide you soWhat all the world suspect?An hour, and gay on every treeYour secret, perched in ecstasyDefies imprisonment!An hour in Chrysalis to pass,Then gay above receding grassA Butterfly to go!A moment to interrogate,Then wiser than a "Surrogate,"The Universe to know!

130. These are the days when Birds come back —

These are the days when Birds come back —A very few — a Bird or two —To take a backward look.These are the days when skies resumeThe old — old sophistries of June —A blue and gold mistake.Oh fraud that cannot cheat the Bee —Almost thy plausibilityInduces my belief.Till ranks of seeds their witness bear —And softly thro' the altered airHurries a timid leaf.Oh Sacrament of summer days,Oh Last Communion in the Haze —Permit a child to join.Thy sacred emblems to partake —They consecrated bread to takeAnd thine immortal wine!

131. Besides the Autumn poets sing

Besides the Autumn poets singA few prosaic daysA little this side of the snowAnd that side of the Haze —A few incisive Mornings —A few Ascetic Eves —Gone — 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 touchThe 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!

132. I bring an unaccustomed wine

I BRING an unaccustomed wineTo 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 warmThe bosoms where the frost has lainAges beneath the mould.Some other thirsty there may beTo whom this would have pointed meHad it remained to speak.

And so I always bear the cupIf, haply, mine may be the dropSome pilgrim thirst to slake,—If, haply, any say to me,"Unto the little, unto me,"When I at last awake.

133. As Children bid the Guest "Good Night"

As children bid the guest good-night,And then reluctant turn,My flowers raise their pretty lips,Then put their nightgowns on.As children caper when they wake,Merry that it is morn,My flowers from a hundred cribsWill peep, and prance again.

134. Perhaps you'd like to buy a flower,

Perhaps you'd like to buy a flower ?But I could never sell.If you would like to borrowUntil the daffodilUnties her yellow bonnetBeneath the village door,