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No other—was denied—I offered Being—for it—The Mighty Merchant sneered—Brazil? He twirled a Button—Without a glance my way—‘But—Madam—is there nothing else—That We can show—Today?’

Is but a filament, I know,Of that diviner thingThat faints upon the face of Noon—And smites the Tinder in the Sun—And hinders Gabriel’s Wing—‘Tis this—in Music—hints and sways—And far abroad on Summer days—Distils uncertain pain—‘Tis this enamors in the East—And tints the Transit in the WestWith harrowing Iodine—‘Tis this—invites—appalls—endows&mda sh;Flits—glimmers—proves—di ssolves—Returns—suggests—co nvicts—enchants—Then—flings in Paradise—

Were Pages where to readPathetic Histories—althoughHimself had not complained.Biography to All who passedOf Unobtrusive PainExcept for the italic FaceEndured, unhelped—unknown.

A Stranger I must judgeSince No one know His Circumstance—‘Tis well the name and ageAre writ upon the DoorOr I should fear to pauseWhere not so much as Honest DogApproach encourages.It seems a curious Town—Some Houses very old,Some—newly raised this Afternoon,Were I compelled to buildIt should not be amongInhabitants so stillBut where the Birds assembleAnd…

I shall not fear mistake—I shall not cheated wake—Some grinning morn—To find the Sunrise left—And Orchards—unbereft—And Dollie—gone!I need not start—you’re sure—That night will never be—When frightened—home to Thee I run—To find the windows dark—And no more Dollie—mark—Quite none?Be sure you’re sure—you know—I’ll bear it better now—If you’ll just tell me so—Than when—a little dull Balm…

The Recollection plays—Drums off the Phantom BattlementsCornets of Paradise—Snatches, from Baptized Generations—Cadences too grandBut for the Justified ProcessionsAt the Lord’s Right hand.