What mystery pervades a well!
That water lives so far --
A neighbor from another world
Residing in a jar

Whose limit none have ever seen,
But just his lid of glass --
Like looking every time you please
In an abyss's face!

The grass does not appear afraid,
I often wonder he
Can stand so close and look so bold
At what is awe to me.

Related somehow they may be,
The sedge stands next the sea --
Where he is floorless
And does no timidity betray

But nature is a stranger yet;
The ones that cite her most
Have never passed her haunted house,
Nor simplified her ghost.

To pity those that know her not
Is helped by the regret
That those who know her, know her less
The nearer her they get.

To own a Susan of my own
Is of itself a Bliss --
Whatever Realm I forfeit, Lord,
Continue me in this!

To the stanch Dust
We safe commit thee --
Tongue if it hath,
Inviolate to thee --
Silence -- denote --
And Sanctity -- enforce thee --
Passenger -- of Infinity --

My Maker -- let me be
Enamored most of thee --
But nearer this
I more should miss --

March is the Month of Expectation.
The things we do not know --
The Persons of prognostication
Are coming now --
We try to show becoming firmness --
But pompous Joy
Betrays us, as his first Betrothal
Betrays a Boy.

Bees are Black, with Gilt Surcingles --
Buccaneers of Buzz.
Ride abroad in ostentation
And subsist on Fuzz.

Fuzz ordained -- not Fuzz contingent --
Marrows of the Hill.
Jugs -- a Universe's fracture
Could not jar or spill.

No Passenger was known to flee --
That lodged a night in memory --
That wily -- subterranean Inn
Contrives that none go out again --

A Field of Stubble, lying sere
Beneath the second Sun --
Its Toils to Brindled People thrust --
Its Triumphs -- to the Bin --
Accosted by a timid Bird
Irresolute of Alms --
Is often seen -- but seldom felt,
On our New England Farms --

The Fact that Earth is Heaven --
Whether Heaven is Heaven or not
If not an Affidavit
Of that specific Spot
Not only must confirm us
That it is not for us
But that it would affront us
To dwell in such a place --

Could mortal lip divine
The undeveloped Freight
Of a delivered syllable
'Twould crumble with the weight.

I shall not murmur if at last
The ones I loved below
Permission have to understand
For what I shunned them so --
Divulging it would rest my Heart
But it would ravage theirs --
Why, Katie, Treason has a Voice --
But mine -- dispels -- in Tears.

Of Paradise' existence
All we know
Is the uncertain certainty --
But its vicinity infer,
By its Bisecting
Messenger --

Shame is the shawl of Pink
In which we wrap the Soul
To keep it from infesting Eyes --
The elemental Veil
Which helpless Nature drops
When pushed upon a scene
Repugnant to her probity --
Shame is the tint divine.

Sweet Skepticism of the Heart --
That knows -- and does not know --
And tosses like a Fleet of Balm --
Affronted by the snow --
Invites and then retards the Truth
Lest Certainty be sere
Compared with the delicious throe
Of transport thrilled with Fear --

Unworthy of her Breast
Though by that scathing test
What Soul survive?
By her exacting light
How counterfeit the white
We chiefly have!

A wild Blue sky abreast of Winds
That threatened it -- did run
And crouched behind his Yellow Door
Was the defiant sun --
Some conflict with those upper friends
So genial in the main
That we deplore peculiarly
Their arrogant campaign --

Crisis is sweet and yet the Heart
Upon the hither side
Has Dowers of Prospective
To Denizens denied

Inquire of the closing Rose
Which rapture she preferred
And she will point you sighing
To her rescinded Bud.

How Human Nature dotes
On what it can't detect.
The moment that a Plot is plumbed
Prospective is extinct --

Prospective is the friend
Reserved for us to know
When Constancy is clarified
Of Curiosity --

Of subjects that resist
Redoubtablest is this
Where go we --
Go we anywhere
Creation after this?