Between My Country—and the Others—

The Women—plucked awayFrom our familiar Lifetime—The Men of Ivory—Those Boys and Girls, in Canvas—Who stay upon the WallIn Everlasting Keepsake—Can Anybody tell?We trust—in places perfecter—Inheriting DelightBeyond our faint Conjecture—Our dizzy Estimate—Remembering ourselves, we trust—Yet Blesseder—than We—Through Knowing—where We only hope—Receiving—where we—pray—Of Expectation—also—Anticipating usWith transport, that would be a painExcept for Holiness—Esteeming us—as Exile—Themself—admitted Home—Through easy…

I bring thee ProofThat till I lovedI never lived—Enough—That I shall love alway—I argue theeThat love is life—And life hath Immortality—This—dost thou doubt—Sweet—Then have INothing to showBut Calvary—

Her annual secret keeps!A Lady white, within the FieldIn placid Lily sleeps!The tidy Breezes, with their Brooms—Sweep vale—and hill—and tree!Prithee, My pretty Housewives!Who may expected be?The Neighbors do not yet suspect!The Woods exchange a smile!Orchard, and Buttercup, and Bird—In such a little while!And yet, how still the Landscape stands!How nonchalant the Hedge!As if the ‘Resurrection’Were…

Its single Artery—Begin, and leave Thee out—Simply Extinction’s Date—Much Billow hath the Sea—One Baltic—They—Subtract Thyself, in play,And not enough of meIs left—to put away—‘Myself’ meanth Thee—Erase the Root—no Tree—Thee—then—no me—The Heavens stripped—Eternity’s vast pocket, picked—

Runs evenly—and true—But let a Splinter swerve—‘Twere easier for You—To put a Current back—When Floods have slit the Hills—And scooped a Turnpike for Themselves—And trodden out the Mills—

As the Vulture teasedForces the Broods in lonely ValleysAs the Tiger easedBy but a Crumb of Blood, fasts ScarletTill he meet a ManDainty adorned with Veins and TissuesAnd partakes—his TongueCooled by the Morsel for a momentGrows a fiercer thingTill he esteem his Dates and CocoaA Nutrition meanI, of a finer FamineDeem my Supper dryFor but…