Like hallowing of Heaven,
Obtains at a corporeal cost—
The Summit is not given
To Him who strives severe
At middle of the Hill—
But He who has achieved the Top—
All—is the price of All—
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The name They dropped upon my faceWith water, in the country churchIs finished using, now,And They can put it with my Dolls,My childhood, and the string of spools,I’ve finished threading—too—Baptized, before, without the choice,But this time, consciously, of Grace—Unto supremest name—Called to my Full—The Crescent dropped—Existence’s whole Arc, filled up,With one small Diadem.My second Rank—too…
A train went through a burial gate,
And trilled, and quivered, and shook his throatTill all the churchyard rang;And then adjusted his little notes,And bowed and sang again.Doubtless, he thought it meet of himTo say good-by to men.
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His Helmet, is of Gold,His Breast, a Single OnyxWith Chrysophrase, inlaid.His Labor is a Chant—His Idleness—a Tune—Oh, for a Bee’s experienceOf Clovers, and of Noon!
874
When I forget to tease—They’ll recollect how cold I lookedAnd how I just said ‘Please.’Then They will hasten to the DoorTo call the little GirlWho cannot thank Them for the IceThat filled the lisping full.
96
Pray lead me to his bed!I came to build the Bird’s nest,And sow the Early seed—That when the snow creeps slowlyFrom off his chamber door—Daisies point the way there—And the Troubadour.
907
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—