We learned to like the Fire
By playing Glaciers—when a Boy—
And Tinder—guessed—by power
Of Opposite—to balance Odd—
If White—a Red—must be!
Paralysis—our Primer—dumb—
Unto Vitality!
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Where is the Bee—Where is the Blush—Where is the Hay?Ah, said July—Where is the Seed—Where is the Bud—Where is the May—Answer Thee—Me—Nay—said the May—Show me the Snow—Show me the Bells—Show me the Jay!Quibbled the Jay—Where be the Maize—Where be the Haze—Where be the Bur?Here—said the Year—
The Black Berry—wears a Thorn in his side—
He offers His Berry, just the sameTo Partridge—and to Boy—He sometimes holds upon the Fence—Or struggles to a Tree—Or clasps a Rock, with both His Hands—But not for Sympathy—We—tell a Hurt—to cool it—This Mourner—to the SkyA little further reaches—instead—Brave Black Berry—
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At last, the lamps upon thy sideThe rest of Life to see!Past Midnight! Past the Morning Star!Past Sunrise!Ah, What leagues there wereBetween our feet, and Day!
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Further than that—Nor stop to play with the Hay—Nor joggle a Hat—He’s a transitive fellow—very—Rely on that—If He leave a Bur at the doorWe know He has climbed a Fir—But the Fir is Where—Declare—Were you ever there?If He brings Odors of Clovers—And that is His business—not Ours—Then He has been with the Mowers—Whetting away the…
It is an honorable thought,
As one encountered gentlefolkUpon a daily street,That we’ve immortal place,Though pyramids decay,And kingdoms, like the orchard,Flit russetly away.
Are Friends Delight or Pain?
Riches were good –But if they only stayAmpler to fly awayRiches are sad.