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Struck, was I, not yet by Lightning --
Lightning -- lets away
Power to perceive His Process
With Vitality.

Maimed -- was I -- yet not by Venture --
Stone of stolid Boy --
Nor a Sportsman's Peradventure --
Who mine Enemy?

Robbed -- was I -- intact to Bandit --
All my Mansion torn --
Sun -- withdrawn to Recognition --
Furthest shining -- done --

Yet was not the foe -- of any --
Not the smallest Bird
In the nearest Orchard dwelling
Be of Me -- afraid.

Most -- I love the Cause that slew Me.
Often as I die
Its beloved Recognition
Holds a Sun on Me --

Best -- at Setting -- as is Nature's --
Neither witnessed Rise
Till the infinite Aurora
In the other's eyes.

Patience -- has a quiet Outer --
Patience -- Look within --
Is an Insect's futile forces
Infinites -- between --

'Scaping one -- against the other
Fruitlesser to fling --
Patience -- is the Smile's exertion
Through the quivering --

Absent Place -- an April Day --
Daffodils a-blow
Homesick curiosity
To the Souls that snow --

Drift may block within it
Deeper than without --
Daffodil delight but
Him it duplicate --

The Heart has narrow Banks
It measures like the Sea
In mighty -- unremitting Bass
And Blue Monotony

Till Hurricane bisect
And as itself discerns
Its sufficient Area
The Heart convulsive learns

That Calm is but a Wall
Of unattempted Gauze
An instant's Push demolishes
A Questioning -- dissolves.

How far is it to Heaven?
As far as Death this way --
Of River or of Ridge beyond
Was no discovery.

How far is it to Hell?
As far as Death this way --
How far left hand the Sepulchre
Defies Topography.

There is a June when Corn is cut
And Roses in the Seed --
A Summer briefer than the first
But tenderer indeed

As should a Face supposed the Grave's
Emerge a single Noon
In the Vermilion that it wore
Affect us, and return --

Two Seasons, it is said, exist --
The Summer of the Just,
And this of Ours, diversified
With Prospect, and with Frost --

May not our Second with its First
So infinite compare
That We but recollect the one
The other to prefer?

Noon -- is the Hinge of Day --
Evening -- the Tissue Door --
Morning -- the East compelling the sill
Till all the World is ajar --

My best Acquaintances are those
With Whom I spoke no Word --
The Stars that stated come to Town
Esteemed Me never rude
Although to their Celestial Call
I failed to make reply --
My constant -- reverential Face
Sufficient Courtesy.

Two Travellers perishing in Snow
The Forests as they froze
Together heard them strengthening
Each other with the words

That Heaven if Heaven -- must contain
What Either left behind
And then the cheer too solemn grew
For language, and the wind

Long steps across the features took
That Love had touched the Morn
With reverential Hyacinth --
The taleless Days went on

Till Mystery impatient drew
And those They left behind
Led absent, were procured of Heaven
As Those first furnished, said --

That is solemn we have ended
Be it but a Play
Or a Glee among the Garret
Or a Holiday

Or a leaving Home, or later,
Parting with a World
We have understood for better
Still to be explained.

Death leaves Us homesick, who behind,
Except that it is gone
Are ignorant of its Concern
As if it were not born.

Through all their former Places, we
Like Individuals go
Who something lost, the seeking for
Is all that's left them, now --

This Dust, and its Feature --
Accredited -- Today --
Will in a second Future --
Cease to identify --

This Mind, and its measure --
A too minute Area
For its enlarged inspection's
Comparison -- appear --

This World, and its species
A too concluded show
For its absorbed Attention's
Remotest scrutiny --

I felt a Cleaving in my Mind --
As if my Brain had split --
I tried to match it -- Seam by Seam --
But could not make it fit.

The thought behind, I strove to join
Unto the thought before --
But Sequence ravelled out of Sound
Like Balls -- upon a Floor.