The East—Her Purple Troth
Keeps with the Hill—
The Noon unwinds Her Blue
Till One Breadth cover Two—
Remotest—still—
Nor does the Night forget
A Lamp for Each—to set—
Wicks wide away—
The North—Her blazing Sign
Erects in Iodine—
Till Both—can see—
The Midnight’s Dusky Arms
Clasp Hemispheres, and Homes
And so
Upon Her Bosom—One—
And One upon Her Hem—
Both lie—
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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—
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Appealing to Myself,In moment of prosperity—Inadequate—were Life—‘Thou hast not Me, nor Me’—it said,In Moment of Reverse—‘And yet Thou art industrious—No need—hadst Thou—of us’?My need—was all I had—I said—The need did not reduce—Because the food—exterminate—The hunger—does not cease—But diligence—is sharper—Proportioned to the Chance—To feed upon the Retrograde—Enfeebles—the Advance—
Publication—is the Auction
Poverty—be justifyingFor so foul a thingPossibly—but We—would ratherFrom Our Garret goWhite—Unto the White Creator—Than invest—Our Snow—Thought belong to Him who gave it—Then—to Him Who bearIts Corporeal illustration—SellThe Royal Air—In the Parcel—Be the MerchantOf the Heavenly Grace—But reduce no Human SpiritTo Disgrace of Price—
My life closed twice before its close–
If Immortality unveilA third event to meSo huge, so hopeless to conceiveAs these that twice befell.Parting is all we know of heaven,And all we need of hell.
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How long a Day I could endureThough thine attention stop not on meNor the least signal, Me assure—Wert Thou but Stranger in ungracious country—And Mine—the DoorThou paused at, for a passing bounty—No More—Accused—wert Thou—and Myself—Tribunal—Convicted—Sentenced—Ermine—not to MeHalf the Condition, thy Reverse—to follow—Just to partake—the infamy—The Tenant of the Narrow Cottage, wert Thou—Permit to beThe Housewife…
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The Wind begun to knead the Grass—As Women do a Dough—He flung a Hand full at the Plain—A Hand full at the Sky—The Leaves unhooked themselves from Trees—And started all abroad—The Dust did scoop itself like Hands—And throw away the Road—The Wagons—quickened on the Street—The Thunders gossiped low—The Lightning showed a Yellow Head—And then a…