952

‘How doth the busy bee,’‘Dum vivimus vivamus,’I stay mine enemy!Oh ‘veni, vidi, vici!’Oh caput cap-a-pie!And oh ‘memento mori’When I am far from thee!Hurrah for Peter Parley!Hurrah for Daniel Boone!Three cheers, sir, for the gentlemanWho first observed the moon!Peter, put up the sunshine;Patti, arrange the stars;Tell Luna, tea is waiting,And call your brother Mars!Put down the…

I judge from my Geography –Volcanos nearer hereA Lava step at any timeAm I inclined to climb –A Crater I may contemplateVesuvius at Home.

And all my House aglowDid fan and rock, with sudden light—‘Twas Sunrise—’twas the Sky—Impanelled from no Summer brief—With limit of Decay—‘Twas Noon—without the News of Night—Nay, Nature, it was Day—

Become so wondrous dear—As for the lost we grappleTho’ all the rest are here—In broken mathematicsWe estimate our prizeVast—in its fading rationTo our penurious eyes!

I don’t care for pouting skies!If the Butterfly delayCan I, therefore, stay away?If the Coward Bumble BeeIn his chimney corner stay,I, must resoluter be!Who’ll apologize for me?Dear, Old fashioned, little flower!Eden is old fashioned, too!Birds are antiquated fellows!Heaven does not change her blue.Nor will I, the little Heart’s Ease—Ever be induced to do!

By Accident of GainBefalling not my simple Days—Myself had just to earn—Of Riches—as unconsciousAs is the Brown MalayOf Pearls in Eastern Waters,Marked His—What HolidayWould stir his slow conception—Had he the power to dreamThat put the Dower’s fraction—Awaited even—Him—