Lest my beseeching face—at last—
Rejected—be—of Her?
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Distills amazing senseFrom ordinary Meanings—And Attar so immenseFrom the familiar speciesThat perished by the Door—We wonder it was not OurselvesArrested it—before—Of Pictures, the Discloser—The Poet—it is He—Entitles Us—by Contrast—To ceaseless Poverty—Of portion—so unconscious—The Robbing—could not harm—Himself—to Him—a Fortune—Exterior—to Time—
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In an Audience—Stamped—occasionally—forever—So may CountenanceEntertain—without addressingCountenance of OneIn a Neighboring Horizon—Gone—as soon as known—
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‘ ‘Twas Sunset’—Some one said—I only saw a Sapphire Farm—And just a Single Herd—Of Opal Cattle—feeding farUpon so vain a Hill—As even while I looked—dissolved—Nor Cattle were—nor Soil—But in their stead—a Sea—displayed—And Ships—of such a sizeAs Crew of Mountains—could afford—And Decks—to seat the skies—This—too—the Showman rubbed away—And when I looked again—Nor Farm—nor Opal Herd—was there—Nor…
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A loss or so—To bend the eyeBest Beauty’s way—But—once aslantIt notes DelightAs difficultAs StalactiteA Common BlissWere had for less—The price—isEven as the Grace—Our lord—thought noExtravaganceTo pay—a Cross—
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The Positive—of Bells—When Cogs—stop—that’s Circumference—The Ultimate—of Wheels.
A lane of Yellow led the eye
Whose soft inhabitants to beSurpasses solitudeIf Bird the silence contradictOr flower presume to showIn that low summer of the WestImpossible to know –