By Chivalries as tiny,
A Blossom, or a Book,
The seeds of smiles are planted—
Which blossom in the dark.
Their Height in Heaven comforts n…
Their Glory—nought to me—
’Twas best imperfect—as it was—
I’m finite—I can’t see—
If those I loved were lost
The Crier’s voice would tell me—
If those I loved were found
The bells of Ghent would ring—
The only ghost I ever saw
Was dressed in mechlin,—so;
He wore no sandal on his foot,
And stepped like flakes of snow.
His gait was soundless, like the b…
Except the Heaven had come so nea…
So seemed to choose My Door—
The Distance would not haunt me s…
I had not hoped—before—
Except to Heaven, she is nought.
Except for Angels—lone.
Except to some wide-wandering Bee
A flower superfluous blown.
A DEED knocks first at thought,
And then it knocks at will.
That is the manufacturing spot,
And will at home and well.
It then goes out an act,
If the foolish, call them “flowers…
Need the wiser, tell?
If the Savants “Classify” them
It is just as well!
The butterfly obtains
But little sympathy
Though favorably mentioned
In Entomology -
Because he travels freely
A something in a summer’s Day
As slow her flambeaux burn away
Which solemnizes me.
A something in a summer’s noon—
I showed her Heights she never sa…
“Would’st Climb,” I said?
She said—"Not so"—
“With me—” I said—With me?
One need not be a chamber to be ha…
One need not be a house;
The brain has corridors surpassing
Far safer, of a midnight meeting
On that dear Frame the Years had…
Yet precious as the House
In which We first experienced Lig…
The Witnessing, to Us—
Sweet — You forgot — but I rememb…
Every time — for Two —
So that the Sum be never hindered
Through Decay of You —
It tossed’—and tossed’—
A little Brig I knew’—o’ertook by…
It spun’—and spun’—
And groped delirious, for Morn’—