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Nor Doubt of Scene to come,But an adjourning Heart –

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.

But those the silent feelAre beautiful—

I heard the Buckle snap—And turned away, imperial,My Lifetime folding up—Deliberate, as a Duke would doA Kingdom’s Title Deed—Henceforth, a Dedicated sort—A Member of the Cloud.Yet not too far to come at call—And do the little ToilsThat make the Circuit of the Rest—And deal occasional smilesTo lives that stoop to notice mine—And kindly ask it…

Because they told me to—But stopped, when qualified to guessHow prayer would feel—to me—If I believed God looked around,Each time my Childish eyeFixed full, and steady, on his ownIn Childish honesty—And told him what I’d like, today,And parts of his far planThat baffled me—The mingled sideOf his Divinity—And often since, in Danger,I count the force…

Forget she wore it at her HeartBecause she breathed againstWas Treason twixt?Deny! Did Rose her Bee—For Privilege of PlayOr Wile of ButterflyOr Opportunity—Her Lord away?The lady with the Amulet—will face—The Bee—in Mausoleum laid—Discard his Bride—But longer than the little Rill—That cooled the Forehead of the Hill—While Other—went the Sea to fill—And Other—went to turn the…