Instead I’ll say of Gem
In His long Absence worn
A Costlier one
But every Tear I bore
Were He to count them o’er
His own would fall so more
I’ll mis sum them.
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They dropped like flakes, they dropped like stars,
When suddenly across the luneA wind with fingers goes.They perished in the seamless grass,–No eye could find the place;But God on his repealless listCan summon every face
The going from a world we know
Is like the child’s adversityWhose vista is a hill,Behind the hill is sorceryAnd everything unknown,But will the secret compensateFor climbing it alone?
I see thee better—in the Dark—
The Love of Thee—a Prism be—Excelling Violet—I see thee better for the YearsThat hunch themselves between—The Miner’s Lamp—sufficient be—To nullify the Mine—And in the Grave—I see Thee best—Its little Panels beAglow—All ruddy—with the LightI held so high, for Thee—What need of Day—To Those whose Dark—hath so—surpassing Sun—It deem it be—Continually—At the Meridian?
The spry Arms of the Wind
I have an errand imminentTo an adjoining Zone –I should not care to stopMy Process is not longThe Wind could wait without the GateOr stroll the Town among.To ascertain the HouseAnd is the soul at HomeAnd hold the Wick of mine to itTo light, and then return –
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But large—serene—Burned on—until through Dissolution—It failed from Men—I could not deem these Planetary forcesAnnulled—But suffered an Exchange of Territory—Or World—
897
All Prizes to obtain—Successful certain, if at last,First Suitor not in vain.