This—to Heaven divine Has gone—
Had You earlier blundered in
Possibly, e’en You had seen
An Eternity—put on—
Now—to ring a Door beyond
Is the utmost of Your Hand—
To the Skies—apologize—
Nearer to Your Courtesies
Than this Sufferer polite—
Dressed to meet You—
See—in White!
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I dreaded that first robin so,
And I’m accustomed to him grown,–He hurts a little, though.I thought if I could only liveTill that first shout got by,Not all pianos in the woodsHad power to mangle me.I dared not meet the daffodils,For fear their yellow gownWould pierce me with a fashionSo foreign to my own.I wished the grass would hurry,So when ‘t…
They dropped like flakes, they dropped like stars,
When suddenly across the luneA wind with fingers goes.They perished in the seamless grass,–No eye could find the place;But God on his repealless listCan summon every face
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Because there isn’t Room—Besides—it isn’t even—it slantsAnd People come—And put a Flower on it—And hang their faces so—We’re fearing that their Hearts will drop—And crush our pretty play—And so we move as farAs Enemies—away—Just looking round to see how farIt is—Occasionally—
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The Positive—of Bells—When Cogs—stop—that’s Circumference—The Ultimate—of Wheels.
Going to him! Happy letter! Tell him–
Tell him I only said the syntax,And left the verb and the pronoun out.Tell him just how the fingers hurriedThen how they waded, slow, slow, slow-And then you wished you had eyes in your pages,So you could see what moved them so.‘Tell him it wasn’t a practised writer,You guessed, from the way the sentence toiled;You…
1763
It has a song—It has a sting—Ah, too, it has a wing.