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Laurels—for rare degreeOf soul or sword.Ah—but remembering me—Ah—but remembering thee—Nature in chivalry—Nature in charity—Nature in equity—This Rose ordained!

With but a single Star—That often as a Cloud it met—Blew out itself—for fear—The Wind pursued the little Bush—And drove away the LeavesNovember left—then clambered upAnd fretted in the Eaves—No Squirrel went abroad—A Dog’s belated feetLike intermittent Plush, he heardAdown the empty Street—To feel if Blinds be fast—And closer to the fire—Her little Rocking Chair…

The Winds did buy it of the Woods—They—sold it unto meIt was a gentle price—The poorest—could afford—It was within the frugal purseOf Beggar—or of Bird—Of small and spicy Yards—In hue—a mellow Dun—Of Sunshine—and of Sere—Composed—But, principally—of Sun—The Wind—unrolled it fast—And spread it on the Ground—Upholsterer of the Pines—is He—Upholsterer—of the Pond—

The Flower—distinct and Red—I, passing, thought another NoonAnother in its steadWill equal glow, and thought no MoreBut came another DayTo find the Species disappeared—The Same Locality—The Sun in place—no other fraudOn Nature’s perfect Sum—Had I but lingered Yesterday—Was my retrieveless blame—Much Flowers of this and further ZonesHave perished in my HandsFor seeking its Resemblance—But unapproached…

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…

Except a perished creatureEntreat us tenderlyTo ponder little workmanshipsIn crayon or in wool,With ‘This was last her fingers did,’Industrious untilThe thimble weighed too heavy,The stitches stopped themselves,And then ‘t was put among the dustUpon the closet shelves.A book I have, a friend gave,Whose pencil, here and there,Had notched the place that pleased him,–At rest his…