In an Audience—
Stamped—occasionally—forever—
So may Countenance
Entertain—without addressing
Countenance of One
In a Neighboring Horizon—
Gone—as soon as known—
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There’s a certain Slant of light,
That oppresses, like the HeftOf Cathedral Tunes–Heavenly Hurt, it gives us–We can find no scar,But internal difference,Where the Meanings, are–None may teach it–Any–‘Tis the Seal Despair–An imperial afflictionSent us of the air–When it comes, the Landscape listens–Shadows–hold their breath–When it goes, ’tis like the DistanceOn the look of Death–
880
What merit have the TuneNo Breakfast if it guarantyThe Rose content may bloomTo gain renown of Lady’s DrawerBut if the Lady comeBut once a Century, the RoseSuperfluous become—
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Then I will, when on the Everlasting HillA Smaller Purple grows—At sunset, or a lesser glowFlickers upon Cordillera—At Day’s superior close!
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…
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How ignorant I had beenOf pretty ways of Covenant—How awkward at the HymnRound our new Fireside—but for this—This pattern—of the Way—Whose Memory drowns me, like the DipOf a Celestial Sea—What Mornings in our Garden—guessed—What Bees—for us—to hum—With only Birds to interruptThe Ripple of our Theme—And Task for Both—When Play be done—Your Problem—of the Brain—And mine—some…
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Affection doesn’t knowHow many leagues of nowhereLie between them now.Yesterday, undistinguished!Eminent TodayFor our mutual hone, Immortality!