I
A little over Jordan
Water is taught by thirst
The sea said, “come” to the brook
The grass so little has to do
Some days retired from the rest
Prayer is the little implement
Like some old-fashioned miracle
In lands I never saw, they say
I fit for them
Give little anguish
As by the dead we love to sit
When I was small, a woman died
A death-blow is a life-blow to some
Wait till the majesty of death
II
Perhaps you’d like to buy a flower
Let me not mar that perfect dream
I lost a world the other day
I died for beauty but was scarce
For death, or rather
Candor, my tepid friend
You left me sweet, two legacies
Ah, Teneriffe!
We outgrow love like other things
The thought beneath so slight after
The daisy follows soft the sun
I’ve seen a dying eye
Lightly stepped a yellow star
I heard a fly buzz when I died
III
He fumbles at your spirit
From all the jails the boys and girls enter
Crisis is sweet and set of heart
When roses cease to bloom, dear
Ambition cannot find her
‘Twas a long parting, but the time came
The springtime’s pallid landscape
The incidents of love
‘Tis whiter than an Indian pipe
Pink, small, and punctual
Like men and women shadows walk
I’m husband; I’ve finished that
I gained it so
Faith is a fine invention
IV
Father I bring thee not myself but thy other
A shady friend for torrid days
Who has not found the heaven below
Adrift! A little boat adrift!
‘Twas such a little little boat
This is the land the sunset washes
The moon was but a chin of gold
Some things that fly there be
No autumn’s intercepting chill
My wheel is in the dark
I see the letter in the dark
If I should die
God permits industrious angels
At last to be identified
V
Witchcraft has not a pedigree
A dew sufficed itself
To the staunch dust we safe commit thee
The wind began the rock the grass
The moon is distant from the sea
And she slept beneath a tree
No knowing when the dawn will come
I years had been from home
I noticed people disappeared
If the foolish call them flowers
Forbidden fruit a flavor has
Come slowly Eden
A clock stopped not the mantel’s
Unto my books so good to turn
VI
“Remember me” implored the thief
Nature is what we see
Let down the bars O death
I measure every grief I meet
I can’t tell you but you feel it
Glory is that bright tragic thing
Could I but ride indefinite
Where ships of purple gently toss
A little overflowing word
What mystery pervades a well
This is my letter to the world
The murmur of a bee
The duties of the wind are few
That short potential stir
VII
Immured in heaven what a cell
Her final summer was it
Dropped into the cement
Death sets a thing significant
You cannot put a fire out
After a hundred years
Upon the gallows hung a wretch
This merit hath the worst
The leaves like women interchange
That she forgot me was the least
Pain has an element of blank
I took my power in my hand
I have a king who does not speak
I had a daily bliss
VIII
That is solemn we have ended
Our share of night to bear
Not any sunny tone
It was not death,for I stood up
I had been hungry all the years
How dare the robins sing
Had this day not been
A route of evanescence
Who were the Father and the Son
A face devoid of love or grace
To lose thee sweeter than to gain
The sky is low the clouds are mean
The long sigh of the frog
The bat is dun with wrinkled wings
IX
My friend must be a bird
I meant to find her when I came
I bet with every wind that blew
From cocoon forth a butterfly
A prompt executive bird is the jay
Who robbed the woods
All overgrown by cunning moss
To hear an oriole sing
Tie the strings to my life my lord
Lay this laurel on the one
Step lightly on this narrow spot
On the bleakness of my lot
Me! Come! My dazzled face
I have no life but this
X
Volcanoes be in Sicily
There is a word
The future never spoke
Softened by time’s consummate plush
On my volcano grows the grass
Like mighty footlights burned the red
Is bliss then such abyss
I felt a funeral in my brain
Except the smaller size no lives are round
Ashes denote that fire was
Within my reach
Adventure most unto itself
We never know how high we are
Through lane I lay through bramble
XI
A face devoid of love or grace
A precious moldering pleasure ‘tis
Given little anguish
How dare the robins sing
In winter in my room
My cocoon tightens colors tease
Nature is what I see
The bee is not afraid of me
A drop fell on the apple tree
Apparently with no surprise
Forever cherished be the tree
I dreaded the first robin so
I know a place where summer strives
My country need not change her gown
XII
I like a look of agony
Like brooms of steel
Of tribulations these are they
Remorse is memory awake
After a hundred years
Beauty crowds me till I die
From cocoon forth a butterfly
If tolling bell I ask the cause
I had no cause to be awake
Let me not mar that perfect dream
It sounded as if the streets were running
Success is counted sweetest
A charm invests a face
A spider sewed at night
XIII
I gave myself to him
I had been hungry all the years
Love reckons by itself alone
Not with a club the heart is broken
Soul wilt thou toss again?
Angels in the early morning
Death is like the insect
Essential oils are wrong
How destitute is he
I measure every grief I meet
Look back on time with kindly eyes
Poor little heart
So bashful when I spied her
A long, long sleep a famous sleep
