The pedigree of honey

A small—italic SeedLodged by Design or HappeningThe Spirit fructified—Shy as the Wind of his ChambersSwift as a Freshet’s TongueSo of the Flower of the SoulIts process is unknown.When it is found, a few rejoiceThe Wise convey it HomeCarefully cherishing the spotIf other Flower become.When it is lost, that Day shall beThe Funeral of God,Upon his…

Yet doth exceeding run!Of velvet, is his Countenance,And his Complexion, dun!Sometime, he dwelleth in the grass!Sometime, upon a bough,From which he doth descend in plushUpon the Passer-by!All this in summer.But when winds alarm the Forest Folk,He taketh Damask Residence—And struts in sewing silk!Then, finer than a Lady,Emerges in the spring!A Feather on each shoulder!You’d scarce…

That were the Mind dissolved—The Site—of it—by ArchitectCould not again be proved—‘Tis vast—as our Capacity—As fair—as our idea—To Him of adequate desireNo further ’tis, than Here—

Ah! Indeed!May this ‘dishonor’ be?If I were half so fine myselfI’d notice nobody!‘Sown in corruption’!Not so fast!Apostle is askew!Corinthians 1. 15. narratesA Circumstance or two!

Many would flyInured to slower thingsBirds with surpriseWould scan the cowering VanOf men escapingFrom the mind of man

Except for Angels—lone.Except to some wide-wandering BeeA flower superfluous blown.Except for winds—provincial.Except by ButterfliesUnnoticed as a single dewThat on the Acre lies.The smallest Housewife in the grass,Yet take her from the LawnAnd somebody has lost the faceThat made Existence—Home!