s, a Gaiety -- Then swallowed up, of View. 1861 243 -- , , -, . , -- -- ? , -- , , , -- , -- , . . 248 Why -- do they shut Me out of Heaven? Did I sing -- too loud? But -- I can say a little "Minor" Timid as a Bird! Wouldn't the Angels try me -- Just -- once -- more -- Just -- see -- if I troubled them -- But don't -- shut the door! Oh, if I -- were the Gentleman In the "White Robe" -- And they -- were the little Hand -- that knocked -- Could -- I -- forbid? 1861 248 -- -- ? ? -- ! , . -- " " . . 266 This -- is the land -- the Sunset washes -- These -- are the Banks of the Yellow Sea -- Where it rose -- or whither it rushes -- These -- are the Western Mystery! Night after Night Her purple traffic Strews the landing with Opal Bales -- Merchantmen -- poise upon Horizons -- Dip -- and vanish like Orioles! 1861 266 , ; , ! . . 275 Doubt Me! My Dim Companion! Why, God, would be content With but a fraction of the Life -- Poured thee, without a stint -- The whole of me -- forever -- What more the Woman can, Say quick, that I may dower thee With last Delight I own! It cannot be my Spirit -- For that was thine, before -- I ceded all of Dust I knew -- What Opulence the more Had I -- a freckled Maiden, Whose farthest of Degree, Was -- that she might -- Some distant Heaven, Dwell timidly, with thee! Sift her, from Brow to Barefoot! Strain till your last Surmise -- Drop, like a Tapestry, away, Before the Fire's Eyes -- Winnow her finest fondness -- But hallow just the snow Intact, in Everlasting flake -- Oh, Caviler, for you! 1861 275 , ! ! . -- , , ! -- ; , -- , , , ! , , , . , , , . . 280 I felt a Funeral, in my Brain, And Mourners to and fro Kept treading -- treading -- till it seemed That Sense was breaking through -- And when they all were seated, A Service, like a Drum -- Kept beating -- beating -- till I thought My Mind was going numb -- And then I heard them lift a Box And creak across my Soul With those same Boots of Lead, again, Then Space -- began to toll, As all the Heavens were a Bell, And Being, but an Ear, And I, and Silence, some strange Race Wrecked, solitary, here -- And then a Plank in Reason, broke, And I dropped down, and down -- And hit a World, at every plunge, And Finished knowing -- then -- 1861 280 , -- -- . , -- -- -- -- . -- , -- -- -- -- , -- , -- , , , -- , -- -- , , , , . 289 I know some lonely Houses off the Road A Robber'd like the look of -- Wooden barred, And Windows hanging low, Inviting to -- A Portico, Where two could creep -- One -- hand the Tools -- The other peep -- To make sure All's Asleep -- Old fashioned eyes -- Not easy to surprise! How orderly the Kitchen'd look, by night, With just a Clock -- But they could gag the Tick -- And Mice won't bark -- And so the Walls -- don't tell -- None -- will -- A pair of Spectacles ajar just stir -- An Almanac's aware -- Was it the Mat -- winked, Or a Nervous Star? The Moon -- slides down the stair, To see who's there! There's plunder -- where Tankard, or Spoon -- Earring -- or Stone -- A Watch -- Some Ancient Brooch To match the Grandmama -- Staid sleeping -- there -- Day -- rattles -- too Stealth's -- slow -- The Sun has got as far As the third Sycamore -- Screams Chanticleer, "Who's there"? And Echoes -- Trains away, Sneer -- "Where"! While the old Couple, just astir, Fancy the Sunrise -- left the door ajar! 1861 289 , -- , , , . -- -- , -- . - . , , , , , . -- . , ? , , -- . -- , , , , , -- . , . , . -- " ?" , -- ""! , , . . 303 The Soul selects her own Society -- Then -- shuts the Door -- To her divine Majority -- Present no more -- Unmoved -- she notes the Chariots -- pausing -- At her low Gate -- Unmoved -- an Emperor be kneeling Upon her Mat -- I've known her -- from an ample nation -- Choose One -- Then -- close the Valves of her attention -- Like Stone -- 1862 303 -- , . , , , , . , . . 318 I'll tell you how the Sun rose -- A Ribbon at a time -- The Steeples swam in Amethyst -- The news, like Squirrels, ran -- The Hills untied their Bonnets -- The Bobolinks -- begun -- Then I said softly to myself -- "That must have been the Sun"! But how he set -- I know not -- There seemed a purple stile That little Yellow boys and girls Were climbing all the while -- Till when they reached the other side, A Dominie in Gray -- Put gently up the evening Bars -- And led the flock away -- 1861 318 , . -- , , , -- : " , !" -- -- , . , -- ... . 347 When Night is almost done -- And Sunrise grows so near That we can touch the Spaces -- It's time to smooth the Hair -- And get the Dimples ready -- And wonder we could care For that old -- faded Midnight -- That frightened -- but an Hour -- 1862 347 , , . ! ! -- , . 377 To lose one's faith -- surpass The loss of an Estate -- Because Estates can be Replenished -- faith cannot -- Inherited with Life -- Belief -- but once -- can be -- Annihilate a single clause -- And Being's -- Beggary -- 1862 377 -- , , , -- . . -- , . . 389 There's been a Death, in the Opposite House, As lately as Today -- I know it, by the numb look Such Houses have -- alway -- The Neighbors rustle in and out -- The Doctor -- drives away -- A Window opens like a Pod -- Abrupt -- mechanically -- Somebody flings a Mattress out -- The Children hurry by -- They wonder if it died -- on that -- I used to -- when a Boy -- The Minister -- goes stiffly in -- As if the House were His -- And He owned all the Mourners -- now -- And little Boys -- besides -- And then the Milliner -- and the Man Of the Appalling Trade -- To take the measure of the House -- There'll be that Dark Parade -- Of Tassels -- and of Coaches -- soon -- It's easy as a Sign -- The Intuition of the News -- In just a Country Town -- 1862 389 , , - -- . -- , -- , - -- -- , . -- - . -- -- , -- . -- -- -- -- . . 409 They dropped like Flakes -- They dropped like Stars -- Like Petals from a Rose -- When suddenly across the June A wind with fingers -- goes -- They perished in the Seamless Grass -- No eye could find the place -- But God can summon every face Of his Repealless -- List. 1862 409 , -- -- -- -- -- -- . . 441 This is my letter to the World That never wrote to Me -- The simple News that Nature told -- With tender Majesty Her Message is committed To Hands I cannot see -- For love of Her -- Sweet -- countrymen -- Judge tenderly -- of Me 1862 441 , , -- . , , -- -- -- ! . 449 I died for Beauty -- but was scarce Adjusted in the Tomb When One who died for Truth, was lain In an adjoining Room -- He questioned softly "Why I failed"? "For Beauty", I replied -- "And I -- for Truth -- Themself are One -- We Brethren, are", He said -- And so, as Kinsmen, met a Night -- We talked between the Rooms -- Until the Moss had reached our lips -- And covered up -- our names -- 1862 449 , , , . " ", -- -- . " , -- , -- ". , , -- . . 508 I'm ceded -- I've stopped being Theirs -- The name They dropped upon my face With water, in the country church Is finished using, now, And They can put it with my Dolls, My childhood, and the string of spools, I've finished threading -- too -- Baptized, before, without the choice, But this time, consciously, of Grace -- Unto supremest name -- Called to my Full -- The Crescent dropped -- Existence's whole Arc, filled up, With one small Diadem. My second Rank -- too small the first -- Crowned -- Crowing -- on my Father's breast -- A half unconscious Queen -- But this time -- Adequate -- Erect, With Will to choose, or to reject, And I choose, just a Crown -- 1862 508 -- ; , - , . , , , . -, , , , . ... , ; -- , , , -- . . 509 If anybody's friend be dead It's sharpest of the theme The thinking how they walked alive -- At such and such a time -- Their costume, of a Sunday, Some manner of the Hair -- A prank nobody knew but them Lost, in the Sepulchre -- How warm, they were, on such a day, You almost feel the date -- So short way off it seems -- And now -- they're Centuries from that -- How pleased they were, at what you said -- You try to touch the smile And dip your fingers in the frost -- When was it -- Can you tell -- You asked the Company to tea -- Acquaintance -- just a few -- And chatted close with this Grand Thing That don't remember you -- Past Bows, and Invitations -- Past Interview, and Vow -- Past what Ourself can estimate -- That -- makes the Quick of Woe! 1862 509 , , . , , , . , , , . , , -- . , , , , . , , , -- ! . 536 The Heart asks Pleasure -- first -- And then -- Excuse from Pain -- And then -- those little Anodyness That deaden suffering -- And then -- to go to sleep -- And then -- if it should be The will of its Inquisitor The privilege to die -- 1862 536 , -- , -- , . -- , , , . . 547 I've seen a Dying Eye Run round and round a Room -- In search of Something -- as it seemed -- Then Cloudier become -- And then -- obscure with Fog -- And then -- be soldered down Without disclosing what it be 'Twere blessed to have seen -- 1862 547 , , ; -- , -- , , . . 556 The Brain, within its Groove Runs evenly -- and true -- But let a Splinter swerve -- 'Twere easier for You -- To put a Current back -- When Floods have slit the Hills -- And scooped a Turnpike for Themselves -- And trodden out the Mills -- 1862 556 , , , , , . . 583 A Toad, can die of Light -- Death is the Common Right Of Toads and Men -- Of Earl and Midge The privilege -- Why swagger, then? The Gnat's supremacy is large as Thine -- Life -- is a different Thing -- So measure Wine -- Naked of Flask -- Naked of Cask -- Bare Rhine -- Which Ruby's mine? 1862 583 -- -- -- . . . -- . , . . 619 Glee -- The great storm is over -- Four -- have recovered the Land -- Forty -- gone down together -- Into the boiling Sand -- Ring -- for the Scant Salvation -- Toll -- for the bonnie Souls -- Neighbor -- and friend -- and Bridegroom -- Spinning upon the Shoals -- How they will tell the Story -- When Winter shake the Door -- Till the Children urge -- But the Forty -- Did they -- come back no more? Then a softness -- suffuse the Story -- And a silence -- the Teller's eye -- And the Children -- no further question -- And only the Sea -- reply -- 1862 619 ! ! -- , - . ! -- , -- ! , : " ? ?" , ; , . . 622 To know just how He suffered -- would be dear -- To know if any Human eyes were near To whom He could entrust His wavering gaze -- Until it settled broad -- on Paradise -- To know if He was patient -- part content -- Was Dying as He thought -- or different -- Was it a pleasant Day to die -- And did the Sunshine face His way -- What was His furthest mind -- Of Home -- or God -- Or what the Distant say -- At news that He ceased Human Nature Such a Day -- And Wishes -- Had He Any -- Just His Sigh -- Accented -- Had been legible -- to Me -- And was He Confident until Ill fluttered out -- in Everlasting Well -- And if He spoke -- What name was Best -- What last What One broke off with At the Drowsiest -- Was He afraid -- or tranquil -- Might He know How Conscious Consiousness -- could grow -- Till Love that was -- and Love too best to be -- Meet -- and the Junction be Eternity 1862 622 , -- ; , - , , -- . , -- -- , -- -- , , ? -- -- , , , , ? -- ? -- -- . , -- ? -- ? ? , , ? -- ? , , -- -- , -- . . 623 It was too late for Man -- But early, yet, for God -- Creation -- impotent to help -- But Prayer -- remained -- Our Side -- How excellent the Heaven -- When Earth -- cannot be had -- How hospitable -- then -- the face Of our Old Neighbor -- God -- 1862 623 , ; -- . , , - -- ! . 664 Of all the Souls that stand create -- I have elected -- One -- When Sense from Spirit -- files away -- And Subterfuge -- is done -- When that which is -- and that which was -- Apart -- intrinsic -- stand -- And this brief Drama in the flesh -- Is shifted -- like a Sand -- When Figures show their royal Front -- And Mists -- are carved away, Behold the Atom -- I preferred -- To all the lists of Clay! 1862 664 . , -- , , , -- "" , -- , . . 670 One need not be a Chamber -- to be Haunted -- One need not be a House -- The Brain has Corridors -- surpassing Material Place -- Far safer, of a Midnight Meeting External Ghost Than its interior Confronting -- That Cooler Host. Far safer, through an Abbey gallop, The Stones a'chase -- Than Unarmed, one's a'self encounter -- In lonesome Place -- Ourself behind ourself, concealed -- Should startle most -- Assassin hid in our Apartment Be Horror's least. The Body -- borrows a Revolver -- He bolts the Door -- O'erlooking a superior spectre -- Or More -- 1863 670 , ; . , , , . , . , , -- . . 682 'Twould ease -- a Butterfly -- Elate -- a Bee -- Thou'rt neither -- Neither -- thy capacity -- But, Blossom, were I, I would rather be Thy moment Than a Bee's Eternity -- Content of fading Is enough for me -- Fade I unto Divinity -- And Dying -- Lifetime -- Ample as the Eye -- Her least attention raise on me -- 1863 682 , -- . -- -- . -- . -- -- -- -- . -- , -- -- . . 709 Publication -- is the Auction Of the Mind of Man -- Poverty -- be justifying For so foul a thing Possibly -- but We -- would rather From Our Garret go White -- Unto the White Creator -- Than invest -- our Snow -- Thought belong to Him who gave it -- Then -- to Him Who bear Its Corporeal illustration -- Sell The Royal Air -- In the Parcel -- Be the Merchant Of the Heavenly Grace -- But reduce no Human Spirit To Disgrace of Price -- 1863 709 -- , . , -- . , , , . -- ! . 732 She rose to His Requirement -- droppt The Playthings of Her Life To take the honorable Work Of Woman and of Wife -- If ought She missed in Her new Day Of Amplitude, or Awe -- Or first Prospective -- or the Gold In using, wear away, It lay unmentioned -- as the Sea Develop Pearl and Weed, But only to Himself -- be known The Fathoms they abide -- 732 , , , , . - -- , , , , -- , , -- . . 742 Four Trees -- upon a solitary Acre -- Without Design Or Order, or Apparent Action -- Maintain -- The Sun -- upon a Morning meets them -- The Wind. No nearer Neighbor -- have they -- But God -- The Acre gives them -- Place. They -- Him -- Attention of Passer by -- Of Shadow, or of Squirrel, haply -- Or Boy -- What Deed is Theirs unto the General Nature -- What Plan -- They severally -- retard -- or further -- Unknown -- 742 -- -- , , -- . -- -- -- -- -- . -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- . ? -- -- -- . . 759 He fought like those Who've nought to lose -- Bestowed Himself to Balls As One who for a furher Life Had not a further Use -- Invited Death -- with bold attempt -- But Death was Coy of Him As Other Men, were Coy of Death -- To Him -- to live -- was Doom -- His Comrades, shifted like the Flakes When Gusts reverse the Snow -- But He -- was left alive Because Of Greediness to die -- 1863 759 -- , . -- , -- . , , , -- , . . 764 Presentiment -- is that long Shadow -- on the Lawn -- Indicative that Suns go down -- The Notice to the startled Grass That Darkness -- is about to pass -- 1863 764 -- , , , -- . . 793 Grief is a Mouse -- And chooses Wainscot in the Breast For His Shy House -- And baffles quest -- Grief is a Thief -- quick startled -- Pricks His Ear -- report to hear Of that Vast Dark -- That swept His Being -- back -- Grief is a Juggler -- boldest at the Play -- Lest if He flinch -- the eye that way Pounce on His Bruises -- One -- say -- or Three -- Grief is a Gourmand -- spare His luxury -- Best Grief is Tongueless -- before He'll tell -- Burn Him in the Public Square -- His Ashes -- will Possibly -- if they refuse -- How then know -- Since a Rack couldn't coax a syllable -- now. 1863 793 -- , -- -- . -- -- -- , -- . -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- , -- . , -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- . . 797 By my Window have I for Scenery Just a Sea -- with a Stem -- If the Bird and the Farmer -- deem it a "Pine" -- The Opinion will serve -- for them -- It has no Port, nor a "Line" -- but the Jays -- That split their route to the Sky -- Or a Squirrel, whose giddy Peninsula May be easier reached -- this way -- For Inlands -- the Earth is the under side -- And the upper side -- is the Sun. And its Commerce -- if Commerce it have -- Of Spice -- I infer from the Odors borne -- Of its Voice -- to affirm -- when the Wind is within -- Can the Dumb -- define the Divine? The Definition of Melody -- is -- That Definition is none -- It -- suggests to our Faith. They -- suggest to our Sight. When the latter -- is put away I shall meet with Conviction I somewhere met That Immortality. Was the Pine at my Window a "Fellow Of the Royal" Infinity? Apprehensions -- are God's introductions -- To be hallowed -- accordingly -- 1863 797 -- . -- "", . , --, -- -- . -- , , -- , . -- -- -- . -- , . ? -- -- . -- . -- . -- , , -- -- . -- ? -- -- . . 822 This Consciousness that is aware Of Neighbors and the Sun Will be the one aware of Death And that itself alone Is traversing the interval Experience between And most profound experiment Appointed unto Men -- How adequate unto itself Its properties shall be Itself unto itself and none Shall make discovery. Adventure most unto itself The Soul condemned to be -- Attended by a single Hound Its own identity. 1864 822 , , - , -- . ! -- . -- , -- . . 887 We outgrow love, like other things And put it in the Drawer -- Till it an Antique fashion shows -- Like Costumes Grandsires wore. 1864 887 , , . 975 The Mountain sat upon the Plain In his tremendous Chair -- His observation omnifold, His inquest, everywhere -- The Seasons played around his knees Like Children round a sire -- Grandfather of the Days is He Of Dawn, the Ancestor -- 1864 975 , , , , , -- . , , . . 976 Death is a Dialogue between The Spirit and the Dust. "Dissolve" says Death -- The Spirit "Sir I have another Trust" -- Death doubts it -- Argues from the Ground -- The Spirit turns away Just laying off for evidence, An Overcoat of Clay. 1864 976 -- . " !" -- . : " ". , , , . . 1055 The Soul should always stand ajar That if the Heaven inquire He will not be obliged to wait Or shy of troubling Her Depart, before the Host have slid The Bolt unto the Door -- To search for the accomplished Guest, Her Visitor, no more -- 1865 1055 , , . , , . . 1067 Except the smaller size No lives are round -- These -- hurry to a sphere And show and end -- The larger -- slower grow And later hang -- The Summers of Hesperides Are long. 1866 1067 -- . -- ! . 1075 The Sky is low -- the Clouds are mean. A Travelling Flake of Snow Across a Barn or through a Rut Debates if it will go -- A Narrow Wind complains all Day How some one treated him Nature, like Us, is sometimes caught Without her Diadem. 1866 1075 -- . , , . , -- . . 1129 Tell all the Truth but tell it slant -- Success in Circuit lies Too bright for our infirm Delight The Truth's superb suprise. As Lightning to the Children eased With expanation kind The Truth must dazzle gradually Or every man be blind -- 1868 1129 , -- . . , , , . . 1182 Remembrance has a Rear and Front -- 'Tis something like a House -- It has a Garret also For Refuse and the Mouse. Besides the deepest Cellar That ever Mason laid -- Look to it by its Fathoms Ourselves be not pursued -- 1871 1182 -- , , . -- , . . 1186 Too few the mornings be, Too scant the nigthts. No lodging can be had For the delights That come to earth to stay, But no apartment find And ride away. 1871 1186 , , , . . 1207 He preached upon 'Breadth' till it argued him narrow -- The Broad are too broad to define And of 'Truth' until it proclaimed him a Liar -- The Truth never flaunted a Sign -- Simplicity fled from his counterfeit presence As Gold the Pyrites would shun -- What confusion would cover the innocent Jesus To meet so enabled a Man! 1872