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Then drop the paste,And deem ourself a fool.The shapes, though, were similar,And our new handsLearned gem-tacticsPractising sands.

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!

Not all the vats upon the RhineYield such an alcohol!Inebriate of air am I,And debauchee of dew,Reeling, through endless summer days,From inns of molten blue.When the landlord turn the drunken beeOut of the foxglove’s door,When butterflies renounce their drams,I shall but drink the more!Till seraphs swing their snowy hats,And saints to windows run,To see the…

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…

What right have I—to be a Bride—So late a Dowerless Girl—Nowhere to hide my dazzled Face—No one to teach me that new Grace—Nor introduce—my Soul—Me to adorn—How—tell—Trinket—to make Me beautiful—Fabrics of Cashmere—Never a Gown of Dun—more—Raiment instead—of Pompadour—For Me—My soul—to wear—Fingers—to frame my Round HairOval—as Feudal Ladies wore—Far Fashions—Fair—Skill to hold my Brow like an…

‘Twas Murder by degrees—A Thrust—and then for Life a chance—The Bliss to cauterize—The Cat reprieves the MouseShe eases from her teethJust long enough for Hope to tease—Then mashes it to death—‘Tis Life’s award—to die—Contenteder if once—Than dying half—then rallyingFor consciouser Eclipse—

Though his surpassing MeritIs freely certifiedBy every Broom and BridgetThroughout a Christian Land –Neglected Son of GeniusI take thee by the Hand –

Some that never layMake their first Repose this WinterI admonish TheeBlanket Wealthier the NeighborWe so new bestowThan thine acclimated CreatureWilt Thou, Austere Snow?

Are not fair as this—Syllables of Velvet—Sentences of Plush,Depths of Ruby, undrained,Hid, Lip, for Thee—Play it were a Humming Bird—And just sipped—me—

Impaled him on her fiercest stakes—He neutralized them all.She stung him, sapped his firm advance,But, when her worst was done,And he, unmoved, regarded her,Acknowledged him a man.

These Gentlewomen are—One would as soon assault a Plush—Or violate a Star—Such Dimity Convictions—A Horror so refinedOf freckled Human Nature—Of Deity—ashamed—It’s such a common—Glory—A Fisherman’s—Degree—Redemption—Brittle Lady—Be so—ashamed of Thee—

I don’t believe a peevish BirdSo whimpered for the Spring –I taught my Heart a hundred timesPrecisely what to say –Provoking Lover, when you cameIts Treatise flew awayTo hide my strategy too lateTo wiser be too soon –For miseries so halcyonThe happiness atone –