The pedigree of honey

And I’m accustomed to him grown,–He hurts a little, though.I thought if I could only liveTill that first shout got by,Not all pianos in the woodsHad power to mangle me.I dared not meet the daffodils,For fear their yellow gownWould pierce me with a fashionSo foreign to my own.I wished the grass would hurry,So when ‘t…

I was not called—Death did not notice me.I bring my Rose.I plight again,By every sainted Bee—By Daisy called from hillside—by Bobolink from lane.Blossom and I—Her oath, and mine—Will surely come again.

Who dies—and to his friend—Beyond that—unconspicuousTo Anyone but God—Of these Two—God remembersThe longest—for the friend—Is integral—and thereforeItself dissolved—of God—

The Soul has special times—When Dimness—looks the Oddity—Distinctness—easy—se ems—The Shapes we buried, dwell about,Familiar, in the Rooms—Untarnished by the Sepulchre,The Mouldering Playmate comes—In just the Jacket that he wore—Long buttoned in the MoldSince we—old mornings, Children—played—Divided—by a world—The Grave yields back her Robberies—The Years, our pilfered Things—Bright Knots of ApparitionsSalute us, with their wings—As we—it…

The Absence of an Eye—Except its Mind accompanyAbridge SocietyAs slightly as the Routes of Stars—Ourselves—asleep below—We know that their superior EyesInclude Us—as they go—

Who influences Flowers—Till they are orderly as Busts—And Elegant—as Glass—Who visits in the Night—And just before the Sun—Concludes his glistening interview—Caresses—and is gone—But whom his fingers touched—And where his feet have run—And whatsoever Mouth be kissed—Is as it had not been—