I've known a Heaven, like a Tent

I've known a Heaven, like a Tent -- To wrap its shining Yards -- Pluck up its stakes, and disappear -- Without the sound of Boards Or Rip of Nail -- Or Carpenter -- But just the miles of Stare -- That signalize a Show's Retreat -- In North America --

No Trace -- no Figment of the Thing That dazzled, Yesterday, No Ring -- no Marvel -- Men, and Feats -- Dissolved as utterly -- As Bird's far Navigation Discloses just a Hue -- A plash of Oars, a Gaiety -- Then swallowed up, of View.