And how if He be dead—
And so around the Words I went—
Of meeting them—afraid—
I hinted Changes—Lapse of Time—
The Surfaces of Years—
I touched with Caution—lest they crack—
And show me to my fears—
Reverted to adjoining Lives—
Adroitly turning out
Wherever I suspected Graves—
‘Twas prudenter—I thought—
And He—I pushed—with sudden force—
In face of the Suspense—
‘Was buried’—’Buried’! ‘He!’
My Life just holds the Trench—
The scantest Heart extantWill hold you till your privilegeOf Finiteness—be spent—But He whose loss procures youSuch Destitution thatYour Life too abject for itselfThenceforward imitate—Until—Resemblance perfect—Yourself, for His pursuitDelight of Nature—abdicate—Exhibit Love—somewhat—
Much Sense – the starkest Madness –`Tis the MajorityIn this, as All, prevail –Assent – and you are sane –Demur – you`re straightaway dangerous –And handled with a Chain –
By a nimble love—If I weld the Rivet faster—Final fast—above—Never mind my breathless Anvil!Never mind Repose!Never mind the sooty facesTugging at the Forge!
Frequently are brown.Frequently the hills undressBehind my native town.Oft a head is crestedI was wont to see—And as oft a crannyWhere it used to be—And the Earth— they tell me—On its Axis turned!Wonderful Rotation!By but twelve performed!
Kept treading–treading–till it seemedThat Sense was breaking through–And when they all were seated,A Service, like a Drum–Kept beating–beating–till I thoughtMy Mind was going numb–And then I heard them lift a BoxAnd creak across my SoulWith those same Boots of Lead, again,Then Space–began to toll,As all the Heavens were a Bell,And Being, but an Ear,And I,…
To wrap its shining Yards—Pluck up its stakes, and disappear—Without the sound of BoardsOr Rip of Nail—Or Carpenter—But just the miles of Stare—That signalize a Show’s Retreat—In North America—No Trace—no Figment of the ThingThat dazzled, Yesterday,No Ring—no Marvel—Men, and Feats—Dissolved as utterly—As Bird’s far NavigationDiscloses just a Hue—A plash of Oars, a Gaiety—Then swallowed up,…
