There is no frigate like a book

Until a sudden skyReveals the fact that One is raptForever from the Eye—Members of the Invisible,Existing, while we stare,In Leagueless Opportunity,O’ertakenless, as the Air—Why didn’t we detain Them?The Heavens with a smile,Sweep by our disappointed HeadsWithout a syllable—

Yet Man has not of all the ThrongA Curiosity.

So I keep bringing These—Just as the Night keeps fetching StarsTo our familiar eyes—Maybe, we shouldn’t mind them—Unless they didn’t come—Then—maybe, it would puzzle usTo find our way Home—

To Us—Gigantic Sum—A trifle—in his own esteem—But magnified—by Fame—Until it burst the HeartsThat fancied they could hold—When swift it slipped its limit—And on the Heavens—unrolled—‘Tis Ours—to wince—and weep—And wonder—and decayBy Blossoms gradual process—He chose—Maturity—And quickening—as we sowed—Just obviated Bud—And when We turned to note the Growth—Broke—perfect—from the Pod—

A Wishfulness their far ConditionTo occupy.A Chief indifference, as ForeignA World must beThemselves forsake – contented,For Deity.

A Witchcraft—yieldeth me—If any ask me why—‘Twere easier to die—Than tell—The Red upon the HillTaketh away my will—If anybody sneer—Take care—for God is here—That’s all.The Breaking of the DayAddeth to my Degree—If any ask me how—Artist—who drew me so—Must tell!

A Honey’s WeightContent Her smallest fraction helpThe Amber Quantity—

Me for showingIllegitimate—Would a Smile’s minute bestowingToo exorbitantTo the LadyWith the GuineaLook—if She should knowCrumb of MineA Robin’s LarderWould suffice to stow—

Whose table once aGuest but notThe second time is set.Whose crumbs the crows inspectAnd with ironic cawFlap past it to the Farmer’s Corn–Men eat of it and die.

Ruddy as that coeval AppleThe Tradition bears –Fresh as Mankind that humble storyThough a statelier TaleGrown in the Repetition hoaryScarcely would prevail –Tell had a son – The ones that knew itNeed not linger here –Those who did not to Human NatureWill subscribe a Tear –Tell would not bare his HeadIn PresenceOf the Ducal Hat…

Constancy with a ProvisoConstancy abhors –‘Crowns of Life’ are servile PrizesTo the stately Heart,Given for the Giving, solely,No Emolument.–‘Faithful to the end’ AmendedFrom the Heavenly clause –Lucrative indeed the offerBut the Heart withdraws –‘I will give’ the base Proviso –Spare Your ‘Crown of Life’ –Those it fits, too fair to wear it –Try it on…

‘If I should be a Queen, tomorrow’—I’d do this way—And so I deck, a little,If it be, I wake a Bourbon,None on me, bend supercilious—With ‘This was she—Begged in the Market place—Yesterday.’Court is a stately place—I’ve heard men say—So I loop my apron, against the MajestyWith bright Pins of Buttercup—That not too plain—Rank—overtake me—And perch…