"Heaven" -- is what I cannot reach!
The Apple on the Tree --
Provided it do hopeless -- hang --
That -- "Heaven" is -- to Me!
The Color, on the Cruising Cloud --
The interdicted Land --
Behind the Hill -- the House behind --
There -- Paradise -- is found!
Her teasing Purples -- Afternoons --
The credulous -- decoy --
Enamored -- of the Conjuror --
That spurned us -- Yesterday!
I cannot meet the Spring unmoved --
I feel the old desire --
A Hurry with a lingering, mixed,
A Warrant to be fair --
A Competition in my sense
With something hid in Her --
And as she vanishes, Remorse
I saw no more of Her.
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 --
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!
If I could bribe them by a Rose
I'd bring them every flower that grows
From Amherst to Cashmere!
I would not stop for night, or storm --
Or frost, or death, or anyone --
My business were so dear!
If they would linger for a Bird
My Tambourin were soonest heard
Among the April Woods!
Unwearied, all the summer long,
Only to break in wilder song
When Winter shook the boughs!
What if they hear me!
Who shall say
That such an importunity
May not at last avail?
Which is the best -- the Moon or the Crescent?
Neither -- said the Moon --
That is best which is not -- Achieve it --
You efface the Sheen.
Not of detention is Fruition --
Shudder to attain.
Transport's decomposition follows --
He is Prism born.
Through those old Grounds of memory,
The sauntering alone
Is a divine intemperance
A prudent man would shun.
Of liquors that are vended
'Tis easy to beware
But statutes do not meddle
With the internal bar.
Pernicious as the sunset
Permitting to pursue
But impotent to gather,
The tranquil perfidy
Alloys our firmer moments
With that severest gold
Convenient to the longing
But otherwise withheld.
To flee from memory
Had we the Wings
Many would fly
Inured to slower things
Birds with surprise
Would scan the cowering Van
Of men escaping
From the mind of man
Undue Significance a starving man attaches
To Food --
Far off -- He sighs -- and therefore -- Hopeless --
And therefore -- Good --
Partaken -- it relieves -- indeed --
But proves us
That Spices fly
In the Receipt -- It was the Distance --
Was Savory --
Ah, Moon -- and Star!
You are very far --
But were no one
Farther than you --
Do you think I'd stop
For a Firmament --
Or a Cubit -- or so?
I could borrow a Bonnet
Of the Lark --
And a Chamois' Silver Boot --
And a stirrup of an Antelope --
And be with you -- Tonight!
But, Moon, and Star,
Though you're very far --
There is one -- farther than you --
He -- is more than a firmament -- from Me --
I tend my flowers for thee --
Bright Absentee!
My Fuchsia's Coral Seams
Rip -- while the Sower -- dreams --
Geraniums -- tint -- and spot --
Low Daisies -- dot --
My Cactus -- splits her Beard
To show her throat --
Carnations -- tip their spice --
And Bees -- pick up --
A Hyacinth -- I hid --
Puts out a Ruffled Head --
And odors fall
From flasks -- so small --
You marvel how they held --
Globe Roses -- break their satin glake --
I lost a World -- the other day!
Has Anybody found?
You'll know it by the Row of Stars
Around its 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!