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The shining Courtiers go—Veiling the purple, and the plumes—Veiling the ermine so.Smiling, as they request an alms—At some imposing door!Smiling when we walk barefootUpon their golden floor!

The first that I could recollectBereft I was—of what I knew notToo young that any should suspectA Mourner walked among the childrenI notwithstanding went aboutAs one bemoaning a DominionItself the only Prince cast out—Elder, Today, a session wiserAnd fainter, too, as Wiseness is—I find myself still softly searchingFor my Delinguent Palaces—And a Suspicion, like a…

Fingers denied the plucking,Patient till paradise.To such, if they should whisperOf morning and the moor,They bear no other errand,And I, no other prayer.

If only to enclose the SaintsTo Affidavit given.The Missionary to the MoleMust prove there is a SkyLocation doubtless he would pleadBut what excuse have I?Too much of Proof affronts BeliefThe Turtle will not tryUnless you leave him – then returnAnd he has hauled away.

A very few—a Bird or two—To take a backward look.These are the days when skies resumeThe old—old sophistries of June—A blue and gold mistake.Oh fraud that cannot cheat the Bee—Almost thy plausibilityInduces my belief.Till ranks of seeds their witness bear—And softly thro’ the altered airHurries a timid leaf.Oh Sacrament of summer days,Oh Last Communion in…

Oh let me immediately ‘fade’!If this is ‘dying’Bury me, in such a shroud of red!If this is ‘sleep,’On such a nightHow proud to shut the eye!Good Evening, gentle Fellow men!Peacock presumes to die!