On my volcano grows the Grass
A meditative spot -
An acre for a Bird to choose
Would be the General thought -
How red the Fire rocks below -

EXCEPT the heaven had come so n
So seemed to choose my door,
The distance would not haunt me so
I had not hoped before.
But just to hear the grace depart

825
An Hour is a Sea
Between a few, and me—
With them would Harbor be—

480
“Why do I love” You, Sir?
Because—
The Wind does not require the Gra
To answer—Wherefore when He pass

983
Ideals are the Fairly Oil
With which we help the Wheel
But when the Vital Axle turns
The Eye rejects the Oil.

381
A Secret told—
Ceases to be a Secret—then—
A Secret—kept—
That—can appal but One—

277
What if I say I shall not wait!
What if I burst the fleshly Gate—
And pass escaped—to thee!
What if I file this Mortal—off—

97
The rainbow never tells me
That gust and storm are by,
Yet is she more convincing
Than Philosophy.

407
If What we could—were what we wou
Criterion—be small—
It is the Ultimate of Talk—
The Impotence to Tell—

’T IS so much joy! ’T is so much
If I should fail, what poverty!
And yet, as poor as I
Have ventured all upon a throw;
Have gained! Yes! Hesitated so