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He had not on a Crown indeed,A little Palmleaf Hat was all,And he was barefoot, I’m afraid!But sure I am he Ermine woreBeneath his faded Jacket’s blue—And sure I am, the crest he boreWithin that Jacket’s pocket too!For ’twas too stately for an Earl—A Marquis would not go so grand!‘Twas possibly a Czar petite—A Pope,…

And so I trouble thee.I am the one forgot thee so—Dost thou remember me?Nor, for myself, I came so far—That were the little load—I brought thee the imperial HeartI had not strength to hold—The Heart I carried in my own—Till mine too heavy grew—Yet—strangest—heavier since it went—Is it too large for you?

‘Mansions’! Mansions must be warm!Mansions cannot let the tears in,Mansions must exclude the storm!‘Many Mansions,’ by ‘his Father,’I don’t know him; snugly built!Could the Children find the way there—Some, would even trudge tonight!

I must guess—How many times it ache for me—today—Confess—How many times for my far sakeThe brave eyes film—But I guess guessing hurts—Mine—got so dim!Too vague—the face—My own—so patient—covers—Too far—the strength—My timidness enfolds—Haunting the Heart—Like her translated faces—Teasing the want—It—only—can suffice!

I envy Spokes of WheelsOf Chariots, that Him convey—I envy Crooked HillsThat gaze upon His journey—How easy All can seeWhat is forbidden utterlyAs Heaven—unto me!I envy Nests of Sparrows—That dot His distant Eaves—The wealthy Fly, upon His Pane—The happy—happy Leaves—That just abroad His WindowHave Summer’s leave to play—The Ear Rings of PizarroCould not obtain for…

Appointment strictly kept—You taught me fortitude of Fate—This—also—I have learnt—An Altitude of Death, that couldNo bitterer debarThan Life—had done—before it—Yet—there is a Science more—The Heaven you know—to understandThat you be not ashamedOf Me—in Christ’s bright AudienceUpon the further Hand—