If heaven were to do again,
And on the pasture bars,
I leaned to line the figures in
Between the dotted stars,
I should be tempted to forget,
I fear, the Crown of Rule,
The Scales of Trade, the Cross of Faith,
As hardly worth renewal.
For these have governed in our lives,
And see how men have warred.
The Cross, the Crown, the Scales may all
As well have been the Sword.
Through the house give glimmering lightBy the dead and drowsy fire;Every elf and fairy spritehop as light as bird from brier. Now, until the break of dayThrough this house each fairy stray.
To Ridgely TorrenceOn Last Looking into His ‘Hesperides’ I often see flowers from a passing carThat are gone before I can tell what they are. I want to get out of the train and go backTo see what they were beside the track. I name all the flowers I am sure they weren’t;Not fireweed loving…
Nature’s first green is gold,Her hardest hue to hold.Her early leaf’s a flower;But only so an hour.Then leaf subsides to leaf,So Eden sank to grief,So dawn goes down to dayNothing gold can stay.
If you like to call such a sound a laugh.But he gave no one else a laugher’s license.For he turned suddenly grave as if to say,‘Whose business,–if I take it on myself,Whose business–but why talk round the barn?–When it’s just that I hold with getting a thing done with.’You can’t get back and see it…
How can my muse want subject to invent,While thou dost breathe, that pour’st into my verseThine own sweet argument, too excellentFor every vulgar paper to rehearse?O! give thy self the thanks, if aught in meWorthy perusal stand against thy sight;For who’s so dumb that cannot write to thee,When thou thy self dost give invention light?Be…
I’m not the one for putting off the proof.Let it be overwhelming, off a roofAnd round a corner, blizzard snow for dust,And blind me to a standstill if it must.
