Whom not to know has been
A Bounty in prospective, now
Next Door to mine the Pain.
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And grateful that a thingSo terrible—had been endured—I told my Soul to sing—She said her Strings were snapt—Her Bow—to Atoms blown—And so to mend her—gave me workUntil another Morn—And then—a Day as hugeAs Yesterdays in pairs,Unrolled its horror in my face—Until it blocked my eyes—My Brain—begun to laugh—I mumbled—like a fool—And tho’ ’tis Years ago—that…
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A Blossom, or a Book,The seeds of smiles are planted—Which blossom in the dark.
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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!
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We shall never know—How He stretched His Anguish to usThat—is covered too—Spreads the Pond Her Base of LiliesBold above the BoyWhose unclaimed Hat and JacketSum the History—
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That toddled down the bay!‘Twas such a gallant—gallant seaThat beckoned it away!‘Twas such a greedy, greedy waveThat licked it from the Coast—Nor ever guessed the stately sailsMy little craft was lost!
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Hiding individuals from the EarthSuperposition helps, as well as love—Tenderness decreases as we prove—