Three times—He would not go—
But strove to stir the lifeless Fan
The Waters—strove to stay.
Three Times—the Billows tossed me up—
Then caught me—like a Ball—
Then made Blue faces in my face—
And pushed away a sail
That crawled Leagues off—I liked to see—
For thinking—while I die—
How pleasant to behold a Thing
Where Human faces—be—
The Waves grew sleepy—Breath—did not—
The Winds—like Children—lulled—
Then Sunrise kissed my Chrysalis—
And I stood up—and lived—
Could die—did die—Could smile upon the wholeThrough faith in one he met not,To introduce his soul.Could go from scene familiarTo an untraversed spot—Could contemplate the journeyWith unpuzzled heart—Such trust had one among us,Among us not today—We who saw the launchingNever sailed the Bay!
‘Tis first—I lock the Door—And push it with my fingers—next—For transport it be sure—And then I go the furthest offTo counteract a knock—Then draw my little Letter forthAnd slowly pick the lock—Then—glancing narrow, at the Wall—And narrow at the floorFor firm Conviction of a MouseNot exorcised before—Peruse how infinite I amTo no one that You—know—And…
A Legacy of LoveA Heavenly Father would sufficeHad He the offer of—You left me Boundaries of Pain—Capacious as the Sea—Between Eternity and Time—Your Consciousness—and Me—
In itself—a quiet thingThat may furnish the Fuse unto a SparkIn dormant nature—lain—Let us deport—with skill—Let us discourse—with care—Powder exists in Charcoal—Before it exists in Fire.
The Bells a Winter NightBearing the Neighbor out of SoundThat never did alight.
Which in the valleys lie?Some shook their heads, and others smiled—And no one made reply.Perhaps they did not hear, I said,I will inquire again—Whose are the beds—the tiny bedsSo thick upon the plain?‘Tis Daisy, in the shortest—A little further on—Nearest the door—to wake the Ist—Little Leontoden.‘Tis Iris, Sir, and Aster—Anemone, and Bell—Bartsia, in the blanket…
