Rise, heart, thy lord is risen. Sing his praise
Without delays,
Who takes thee by the hand, that thou likewise
With him may'st rise:
That, as his death calcinиd thee to dust,
His life may make thee gold, and, much more, just.
Awake, my lute, and struggle for thy part
With all thy art,
The cross taught all wood to resound his name
Who bore the same.
His stretchиd sinews taught all strings what key
Is best to celebrate this most high day.
Consort, both heart and lute, and twist a song
Pleasant and long;
Or, since all music is but three parts vied
And multiplied
Lain in Nature -- so suffice us
The enchantless Pod
When we advertise existence
For the missing Seed --
Maddest Heart that God created
Cannot move a sod
Pasted by the simple summer
On the Longed for Dead
For largest Woman's Hearth I knew --
'Tis little I can do --
And yet the largest Woman's Heart
Could hold an Arrow -- too --
And so, instructed by my own,
I tenderer, turn Me to.
Hope is a strange invention --
A Patent of the Heart --
In unremitting action
Yet never wearing out --
Of this electric Adjunct
Not anything is known
But its unique momentum
Embellish all we own --
Where Roses would not dare to go,
What Heart would risk the way --
And so I send my Crimson Scouts
To sound the Enemy --
The pretty Rain from those sweet Eaves
Her unintending Eyes --
Took her own Heart, including ours,
By innocent Surprise --
The wrestle in her simple Throat
To hold the feeling down
That vanquished her -- defeated Feat --
Was Fervor's sudden Crown --
Going to Him! Happy letter!
Tell Him --
Tell Him the page I didn't write --
Tell Him -- I only said the Syntax --
And left the Verb and the pronoun out --
Tell Him just how the fingers hurried --
Then -- how they waded -- slow -- slow --
And then you wished you had eyes in your pages --
So you could see what moved them so --
Tell Him -- it wasn't a Practised Writer --
You guessed -- from the way the sentence toiled --
You could hear the Bodice tug, behind you --
As if it held but the might of a child --
You almost pitied it -- you -- it worked so --
Tell Him -- no -- you may quibble there --
For it would split His Heart, to know it --
His Heart was darker than the starless night
For that there is a morn
But in this black Receptacle
Can be no Bode of Dawn
You see I cannot see -- your lifetime --
I must guess --
How many times it ache for me -- today -- Confess --
How many times for my far sake
The brave eyes film --
But I guess guessing hurts --
Mine -- got so dim!
Too vague -- the face --
My own -- so patient -- covers --
Too far -- the strength --
My timidness enfolds --
Haunting the Heart --
Like her translated faces --
Teasing the want --
It -- only -- can suffice!
The Notice that is called the Spring
Is but a month from here --
Put up my Heart thy Hoary work
And take a Rosy Chair.
Not any House the Flowers keep --
The Birds enamor Care --
Our salary the longest Day
Is nothing but a Bier.
By homely gift and hindered Words
The human heart is told
Of Nothing --
"Nothing" is the force
That renovates the World --
The Bird her punctual music brings
And lays it in its place --
Its place is in the Human Heart
And in the Heavenly Grace --
What respite from her thrilling toil
Did Beauty ever take --
But Work might be electric Rest
To those that Magic make --