Her -- "last Poems" --
Poets -- ended --
Silver -- perished -- with her Tongue --
Not on Record -- bubbled other,
Flute -- or Woman --
So divine --
Not unto its Summer -- Morning
Robin -- uttered Half the Tune --
Gushed too free for the Adoring --
From the Anglo-Florentine --
Late -- the Praise --
'Tis dull -- conferring
On the Head too High to Crown --
Diadem -- or Ducal Showing --
Be its Grave -- sufficient sign --
Nought -- that We -- No Poet's Kinsman --
Suffocate -- with easy woe --
What, and if, Ourself a Bridegroom --
Put Her down -- in Italy?

I should have been too glad, I see --
Too lifted -- for the scant degree
Of Life's penurious Round --
My little Circuit would have shamed
This new Circumference -- have blamed --
The homelier time behind.

I should have been too saved -- I see --
Too rescued -- Fear too dim to me
That I could spell the Prayer
I knew so perfect -- yesterday --
That Scalding One -- Sabachthani --
Recited fluent -- here --

Earth would have been too much -- I see --
And Heaven -- not enough for me --
I should have had the Joy
Without the Fear -- to justify --
The Palm -- without the Calvary --
So Savior -- Crucify --
Defeat -- whets Victory -- they say --
The Reefs -- in old Gethsemane --
Endear the Coast -- beyond!
'Tis Beggars -- Banquets -- can define --
'Tis Parching -- vitalizes Wine --
"Faith" bleats -- to understand!

Nature -- sometimes sears a Sapling --
Sometimes -- scalps a Tree --
Her Green People recollect it
When they do not die --

Fainter Leaves -- to Further Seasons --
Dumbly testify --
We -- who have the Souls --
Die oftener -- Not so vitally --

He fumbles at your Soul
As Players at the Keys
Before they drop full Music on --
He stuns you by degrees --
Prepares your brittle Nature
For the Ethereal Blow
By fainter Hammers -- further heard --
Then nearer -- Then so slow
Your Breath has time to straighten --
Your Brain -- to bubble Cool --
Deals -- One -- imperial -- Thunderbolt --
That scalps your naked Soul --

When Winds take Forests in the Paws --
The Universe -- is still --

The Wind didn't come from the Orchard -- today --
Further than that --
Nor stop to play with the Hay --
Nor joggle a Hat --
He's a transitive fellow -- very --
Rely on that --

If He leave a Bur at the door
We know He has climbed a Fir --
But the Fir is Where -- Declare --
Were you ever there?

If He brings Odors of Clovers --
And that is His business -- not Ours --
Then He has been with the Mowers --
Whetting away the Hours
To sweet pauses of Hay --
His Way -- of a June Day --

If He fling Sand, and Pebble --
Little Boys Hats -- and Stubble --
With an occasional Steeple --
And a hoarse "Get out of the way, I say,"
Who'd be the fool to stay?
Would you -- Say --
Would you be the fool to stay?

Just so -- Jesus -- raps --
He -- doesn't weary --
Last -- at the Knocker --
And first -- at the Bell.
Then -- on divinest tiptoe -- standing --
Might He but spy the lady's soul --
When He -- retires --
Chilled -- or weary --
It will be ample time for -- me --
Patient -- upon the steps -- until then --
Hears!  I am knocking -- low at thee.

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 --

The nearest Dream recedes -- unrealized --
The Heaven we chase,
Like the June Bee -- before the School Boy,
Invites the Race --
Stoops -- to an easy Clover --
Dips -- evades -- teases -- deploys --
Then -- to the Royal Clouds
Lifts his light Pinnace --
Heedless of the Boy --
Staring -- bewildered -- at the mocking sky --
Homesick for steadfast Honey --
Ah, the Bee flies not
That brews that rare variety!