912

‘Tis Resurrection Pain—The meeting Bands of smitten FaceWe questioned to, again.‘Tis Transport wild as thrills the GravesWhen Cerements let goAnd Creatures clad in MiracleGo up by Two and Two.

The Flower—distinct and Red—I, passing, thought another NoonAnother in its steadWill equal glow, and thought no MoreBut came another DayTo find the Species disappeared—The Same Locality—The Sun in place—no other fraudOn Nature’s perfect Sum—Had I but lingered Yesterday—Was my retrieveless blame—Much Flowers of this and further ZonesHave perished in my HandsFor seeking its Resemblance—But unapproached…

I go no more awayFor Visitor—or Sundown—Death’s single privacyThe Only One—forestalling Mine—And that—by Right that HePresents a Claim invisible—No wedlock—granted Me—I live with Him—I hear His Voice—I stand alive—Today—To witness to the CertaintyOf Immortality—Taught Me—by Time—the lower Way—Conviction—Every day—That Life like This—is stopless—Be Judgment—what it may—

The Hills to meet him rose!On his side, what Transaction!On their side, what Repose!Deeper and deeper grew the stainUpon the window pane—Thicker and thicker stood the feetUntil the TyrianWas crowded dense with Armies—So gay, so Brigadier—That I felt martial stirringsWho once the Cockade wore—Charged from my chimney corner—But Nobody was there!

You may have met him,–did you not,His notice sudden is.The grass divides as with a comb,A spotted shaft is seen;And then it closes at your feetAnd opens further on.He likes a boggy acre,A floor too cool for corn.Yet when a child, and barefoot,I more than once, at morn,Have passed, I thought, a whip-lashUnbraiding in the…

The stiff Heart questions was it He, that bore,And Yesterday, or Centuries before?The Feet, mechanical, go round–Of Ground, or Air, or Ought–A Wooden wayRegardless grown,A Quartz contentment, like a stone–This is the Hour of Lead–Remembered, if outlived,As Freezing persons recollect the Snow–First–Chill–then Stupor–then the letting go–