Whole Pools of it—
I’m used to that—
But the least push of Joy
Breaks up my feet—
And I tip—drunken—
Let no Pebble—smile—
‘Twas the New Liquor—
That was all!
Power is only Pain—
Stranded, thro’ Discipline,
Till Weights—will hang—
Give Balm—to Giants—
And they’ll wilt, like Men—
Give Himmaleh—
They’ll Carry—Him!
Forgets her own locality—As I—toward Thee—She knows herself an incense small—Yet small—she sighs—if All—is All—How larger—be?The Ocean—smiles—at her Conceit—But she, forgetting Amphitrite—Pleads—’Me’?
As Blind Men learn the sun!To die of thirst—suspectingThat Brooks in Meadows run!To stay the homesick—homesick feetUpon a foreign shore—Haunted by native lands, the while—And blue—beloved air!This is the Sovereign Anguish!This—the signal woe!These are the patient ‘Laureates’Whose voices—trained—below—As cend in ceaseless Carol—Inaudible, indeed,To us—the duller scholarsOf the Mysterious Bard!
Love Marine and Love terrene –Love celestial too –
Within our power
Is solemnest of industriesEnacted upon earth,–The sweeping up the heart,And putting love awayWe shall not want to use againUntil eternity.
Dice—to the Maid—Morning means just Risk—to the Lover—Just revelation—to the Beloved—Epicures—date a Breakfast—by it—Brides—an Apocalypse—Worlds—a Flood—Faint-going Lives—Their Lapse from Sighing—Faith—The Experiment of Our Lord
