I dreaded that first robin so,

Upon a single Wheel—Whose spokes a dizzy Music makeAs ’twere a travelling Mill—He never stops, but slackensAbove the Ripest Rose—Partakes without alightingAnd praises as he goes,Till every spice is tasted—And then his Fairy GigReels in remoter atmospheres—And I rejoin my Dog,And He and I, perplex usIf positive, ’twere we—Or bore the Garden in the BrainThis…

It’s such congenial timesOld Neighbors have at fences—It’s time o’ year for Hay.And Broad—Sunburned AcquaintanceDiscourse between the Toil—And laugh, a homely speciesThat makes the Fences smile—It seems so straight to lie awayFrom all of the noise of Fields—The Busy Carts—the fragrant Cocks—The Mower’s Metre—Steals—A Trouble lest they’re homesick—Those Farmers—and their Wives—Set separate from the Farming—And…

Nor Doubt of Scene to come,But an adjourning Heart –

In a Cathedral Aisle,And understood no word it said—Yet held my breath, the while—And risen up—and gone away,A more Berdardine Girl—Yet—know not what was done to meIn that old Chapel Aisle.

But none will pass the CatacombSo chastened as the Fly –

Because they told me to—But stopped, when qualified to guessHow prayer would feel—to me—If I believed God looked around,Each time my Childish eyeFixed full, and steady, on his ownIn Childish honesty—And told him what I’d like, today,And parts of his far planThat baffled me—The mingled sideOf his Divinity—And often since, in Danger,I count the force…