Who influences Flowers—
Till they are orderly as Busts—
And Elegant—as Glass—
Who visits in the Night—
And just before the Sun—
Concludes his glistening interview—
Caresses—and is gone—
But whom his fingers touched—
And where his feet have run—
And whatsoever Mouth be kissed—
Is as it had not been—
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The Notice that is called the Spring
Put up my Heart thy Hoary workAnd take a Rosy Chair.Not any House the Flowers keep –The Birds enamor Care –Our salary the longest DayIs nothing but a Bier.
248
Did I sing—too loud?But—I can say a little ‘Minor’Timid as a Bird!Wouldn’t the Angels try me—Just—once—more—Just—see—if I troubled them—But don’t—shut the door!Oh, if I—were the GentlemanIn the ‘White Robe’—And they—were the little Hand—that knocked—Could—I—forbid?
454
When I was a little Girl—They given us Presents most—you know—When we are new—and small.I kept it in my Hand—I never put it down—I did not dare to eat—or sleep—For fear it would be gone—I heard such words as ‘Rich’—When hurrying to school—From lips at Corners of the Streets—And wrestled with a smile.Rich! ‘Twas Myself—was…
194
On this late Morn—the Sun—The clouds—like listless Elephants—Horizons—straggled down—The Birds rose smiling, in their nests—The gales—indeed—were done—Alas, how heedless were the eyes—On whom the summer shone!The quiet nonchalance of death—No Daybreak—can bestir—The slow—Archangel’s syllablesMust awaken her!
23
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…
129
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!