I taste a liquor never brewed -
From Tankards scooped in Pearl -
Not all the Frankfort Berries
Yield such an Alcohol!
Inebriate of air - am I -
And Debauchee of Dew -
Reeling - thro' endless summer days -
From inns of molten Blue -
When "Landlords" turn the drunken Bee
Out of the Foxglove's door -
When Butterflies - renounce their "drams" -
I shall but drink the more!
Till Seraphs swing their snowy Hats -
And Saints - to windows run -
To see the little Tippler
From Manzanilla come!
A feather from the Whippowil
That everlasting - sings!
Whose galleries - are Sunrise -
Whose Opera - the Springs -
Whose Emerald Nest the Ages spin
Of mellow - murmuring thread -
Whose Beryl Egg, what School Boys hunt
In "Recess -" Overhead!
I lost a World - the other day!
Has Anybody found?
You'll know it by the Row of Stars
Around it's forehead bound!
A Rich man - might not notice it -
Yet - to my frugal Eye,
Of more Esteem than Ducats -
Oh find it - Sir - for me!
If I should'nt be alive
When the Robins come,
Give the one in Red Cravat,
A Memorial crumb -
If I could'nt thank you,
Being fast asleep,
You will know I'm trying
With my Granite lip!
I've heard an Organ talk, sometimes -
In a Cathedral Aisle,
And understood no word it said -
Yet held my breath, the while -
And risen up - and gone away,
A more Bernardine Girl -
Yet - knew not what was done to me
In that old Chapel Aisle.
A transport one cannot contain
May yet, a transport be -
Though God forbid it lift the lid,
Unto it's Extasy!
A Diagram - of Rapture!
A sixpence at a show -
With Holy Ghosts in Cages!
The Universe would go!
"Faith" is a fine invention
When Gentlemen can see -
But Microscopes are prudent
In an Emergency.
He put the Belt around my life -
I heard the Buckle snap -
And turned away, imperial,
My Lifetime folding up -
Deliberate, as a Duke would do
A Kingdom's Title Deed -
Henceforth - a Dedicated sort -
A Member of the Cloud -
Yet not too far to come at call -
And do the little Toils
That make the Circuit of the Rest -
And deal occasional smiles
To lives that stoop to notice mine -
And kindly ask it in -
Whose invitation, know you not
For Whom I must decline?
The only Ghost I ever saw
Was dressed in Mechlin - so -
He had no sandal on his foot -
And stepped like flakes of snow -
His Mien, was soundless, like Bird -
But rapid - like the Roe -
His fashions, quaint, Mosaic -
Or haply, Mistletoe -
His conversation - seldom -
His laughter, like the Breeze
That dies away in Dimples
Among the pensive Trees -
Our interview - was transient -
Of me, himself was shy -
And God forbid I look behind -
Since that appalling Day!
Doubt Me! My Dim Companion!
Why, God, would be content
With but a fraction of the Life -
Poured thee, without a stint -
The whole of me - forever -
What more the Woman can,
Say quick, that I may dower thee
With last Delight I own!
It cannot be my spirit -
For that was thine, before -
I ceded all of Dust I knew -
What Opulence the more
Had I - a freckled Maiden
Whose farthest of Degree,
Was - that she might -
Some distant Heaven,
Dwell timidly - with thee
Sift her, from Brow to Barefoot!
Strain till your last Surmise -
Drop, like a Tapestry, away,
Before the Fire's Eyes -
Winnow her finest fondness -
But hallow just the snow
Intact, in Everlasting flake -
Oh, Caviler, for you!
Many a phrase has the English language -
I have heard but one -
Low as the laughter of the Cricket,
Loud, as the Thunder's Tongue -
Murmuring, like old Caspian Choirs,
When the Tide's a'lull -
Saying itself in new inflection -
Like a Whippowil -
Breaking in bright Orthography
On my simple sleep -
Thundering it's Prospective -
Till I stir, and weep -
Not for the Sorrow, done me -
But the push of Joy -
Say it again, Saxon!
Hush - Only to me!
Of all the Sounds despatched abroad -
There's not a charge to me
Like that old measure in the Boughs
That phraseless Melody -
The Wind does - working like a Hand
Whose fingers brush the Sky -
Then quiver down - with Tufts of Tune -
Permitted Gods men - and me -
Inheritance it is - to us -
Beyond the Art to Earn -
Beyond the trait to take away -
By Robber - since the Gain
Is gotten, not with fingers -
And inner than the Bone -
Hid golden - for the whole of Days -
And even in the Urn -
I cannot vouch the merry Dust
Do not arise and play -
In some odd fashion of it's own -
Some quainter Holiday -
When Winds go round
and round, in Bands -
And thrum opon the Door -
And Birds take places -
Overhead -
To bear them Orchestra -
I crave him grace - of Summer Boughs -
If such an Outcast be -
He never heard that fleshless Chant
Rise solemn, in the Tree -
As if some Caravan of sound
On Deserts, in the Sky
Had broken Ran -
Then knit - and passed -
In Seamless Company -
Her smile was shaped like other smiles -
The Dimples ran along -
And still it hurt you, as some Bird
Did hoist herself, to sing,
Then recollect a Ball, she got -
And hold opon the Twig, -
Convulsive, while the Music crashed -
Like Beads - among the Bog -
A happy lip - breaks sudden -
It does'nt state you how
It contemplated - smiling -
Just consummated - now -
But this one, wears it's merriment
So patient - like a pain -
Fresh gilded - to elude the eyes
Unqualified, to scan -
I got so I could hear his name -
Without - Tremendous gain -
That Stop-sensation - on my Soul -
And Thunder - in the Room -
I got so I could walk across
That Angle in the floor,
Where he turned so, and I turned - how -
And all our Sinew tore -
I got so I could stir the Box -
In which his letters grew
Without that forcing, in my breath -
As Staples - driven through -
Could dimly recollect a Grace -
I think, they called it "God" -
Renowned to ease Extremity -
When Formula, had failed -
And shape my Hands -
Petition's way,
Tho' ignorant of a word
That Ordination - utters -
My Business - with the Cloud,
If any Power behind it, be,
Not subject to Despair -
It care - in some remoter way,
For so minute affair
As Misery -
Itself, too great, for interrupting - more -
A single Screw of Flesh
Is all that pins the Soul
That stands for Deity, to mine,
Opon my side the Vail -
Once witnessed of the Gauze -
It's name is put away
As far from mine, as if no plight
Had printed yesterday,
In tender - solemn Alphabet,
My eyes just turned to see -
When it was smuggled by my sight
Into Eternity -
More Hands - to hold - These are but Two -
One more new-mailed Nerve
Just granted, for the Peril's sake -
Some striding - Giant - Love -
So greater than the Gods can show,
They slink before the Clay,
That not for all their Heaven can boast
Will let it's Keepsake - go
A Weight with Needles on the pounds -
To push, and pierce, besides -
That if the Flesh resist the Heft -
The puncture - Cooly tries -
That not a pore be overlooked
Of all this Compound Frame -
As manifold for Anguish -
As Species - be - for name.
Savior! I've no one else to tell -
And so I trouble thee.
I am the one forgot thee so -
Dost thou remember me?
Nor, for myself, I came so far -
That were the little load -
I brought thee the imperial Heart
I had not strength to hold -
The Heart I carried in my own -
Till mine too heavy grew -
Yet - strangest - heavier since it went -
Is it too large for you?
Where Ships of Purple - gently toss -
On Seas of Daffodil -
Fantastic Sailors - mingle -
And then - the Wharf is still!
This - is the land - the Sunset washes -
These - are the Banks of the Yellow Sea -
Where it rose - or whither it rushes -
These - are the Western Mystery!
Night after Night
Her Purple traffic
Strews the landing - with Opal Bales -
Merchantmen - poise opon Horizons -
Dip - and vanish like Orioles!
The Doomed - regard the Sunrise
With different Delight -
Because - when next it burns abroad
They doubt to witness it -
The Man - to die - tomorrow -
Harks for the Meadow Bird -
Because it's Music stirs the Axe
That clamors for his head -
Joyful - to whom the Sunrise
Precedes Enamored - Day -
Joyful - for whom the Meadow Bird
Has ought but Elegy!
Jesus! thy Crucifix
Enable thee to guess
The smaller size -
Jesus! thy second face
Mind thee - in Paradise -
Of Our's.
Did we disobey Him?
Just one time!
Charged us to forget Him -
But we could'nt learn!
Were Himself - such a Dunce -
What would we - do?
Love the dull lad - best -
Oh, would'nt you?
Unto like Story - Trouble has enticed me -
How Kinsmen fell -
Brothers and Sisters - who preferred the Glory -
And their young will
Bent to the Scaffold, or in Dungeons - chanted -
Till God's
When they let go the ignominy - smiling -
And Shame went still -
Unto guessed Crests, my moaning fancy, leads me,
Worn fair
By Heads rejected - in the lower country -
Of honors there -
Such spirit makes her perpetual mention,
That I - grown bold -
Step martial - at my Crucifixion -
As Trumpets - rolled -
Feet, small as mine - have marched in Revolution
Firm to the Drum -
Hands - not so stout - hoisted them - in witness -
When Speech went numb -
Let me not shame their sublime deportments -
Drilled bright -
Beckoning - Etruscan invitation -
Toward Light -
One Year ago - jots what?
God - spell the word! I - cant -
Was't Grace? Not that -
Was't Glory? That - will do -
Spell slower - Glory -
Such anniversary shall be -
Sometimes - not often - in Eternity -
When farther Parted, than the common Wo -
Look - feed opon each other's faces - so -
In doubtful meal, if it be possible
Their Banquet's
I tasted - careless - then -
I did not know the Wine
Came once a World - Did you?
Oh, had you told me so -
This Thirst would blister - easier - now -
You said it hurt you - most -
Mine - was an Acorn's Breast -
And could not know how fondness grew
In Shaggier Vest -
Perhaps - I could'nt -
But, had you looked in -
A Giant - eye to eye with you, had been -
No Acorn - then -
So - Twelve months ago -
We breathed -
Then dropped the Air -
Which bore it best?
Was this - the patientest -
Because it was a Child, you know -
And could not value - Air?
If to be "Elder" - mean most pain -
I'm old enough, today, I'm certain - then -
As old as thee - how soon?
One - Birthday more - or Ten?
Let me - choose!
Ah, Sir, None!
It's like the Light -
A fashionless Delight -
It's like the Bee -
A dateless - Melody -
It's like the Woods -
Private - Like the Breeze -
Phraseless - yet it stirs
The proudest Trees -
It's like the morning -
Best - when it's done -
And the Everlasting Clocks -
Chime - Noon!
Alone, I cannot be -
The Hosts - do visit me -
Recordless Company -
Who baffle Key -
They have no Robes, nor Names -
No Almanacs - nor Climes -
But general Homes
Like Gnomes -
Their Coming, may be known
By Couriers within -
Their going - is not -
For they're never gone -