Until upon my face
The Judgment push his Picture—
Presumptuous of Your Place—
Of This—Could Man deprive Me—
Himself—the Heaven excel—
Whose invitation—Yours reduced
Until it showed too small—
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Is it too late to touch you, Dear?
Love Marine and Love terrene –Love celestial too –
I bet with every Wind that blew
Employed a Fact to visit meAnd scuttle my Balloon –
144
Traced azure on her hand—Til pleading, round her quiet eyesThe purple Crayons stand.Till Daffodils had come and goneI cannot tell the sum,And then she ceased to bear it—And with the Saints sat down.No more her patient figureAt twilight soft to meet—No more her timid bonnetUpon the village street—But Crowns instead, and Courtiers—And in the midst…
46
I was not called—Death did not notice me.I bring my Rose.I plight again,By every sainted Bee—By Daisy called from hillside—by Bobolink from lane.Blossom and I—Her oath, and mine—Will surely come again.
218
Are there two?I shouldn’t like to comeFor fear of joggling Him!If I could shut him upIn a Coffee Cup,Or tie him to a pinTill I got in—Or make him fastTo ‘Toby’s’ fist—Hist! Whist! I’d come!
Tell as a Marksman – were forgotten
Ruddy as that coeval AppleThe Tradition bears –Fresh as Mankind that humble storyThough a statelier TaleGrown in the Repetition hoaryScarcely would prevail –Tell had a son – The ones that knew itNeed not linger here –Those who did not to Human NatureWill subscribe a Tear –Tell would not bare his HeadIn PresenceOf the Ducal Hat…