A Bird came down the Walk --
He did not know I saw --
He bit an Angleworm in halves
And ate the fellow, raw,

And then he drank a Dew
From a convenient Grass --
And then hopped sidewise to the Wall
To let a Beetle pass --

He glanced with rapid eyes
That hurried all around --
They looked like frightened Beads, I thought --
He stirred his Velvet Head

Like one in danger, Cautious,
I offered him a Crumb
And he unrolled his feathers
And rowed him softer home --

Than Oars divide the Ocean,
Too silver for a seam --
Or Butterflies, off Banks of Noon
Leap, plashless as they swim.

So glad we are -- a Stranger'd deem
'Twas sorry, that we were --
For where the Holiday should be
There publishes a Tear --
Nor how Ourselves be justified --
Since Grief and Joy are done
So similar -- An Optizan
Could not decide between --

The Juggler's Hat her Country is --
The Mountain Gorse -- the Bee's!

While Asters --
On the Hill --
Their Everlasting fashions -- set --
And Covenant Gentians -- Frill!

There are two Ripenings -- one -- of sight --
Whose forces Spheric wind
Until the Velvet product
Drop spicy to the ground --
A homelier maturing --
A process in the Bur --
That teeth of Frosts alone disclose
In far October Air.

The Grass so little has to do --
A Sphere of simple Green --
With only Butterflies to brood
And Bees to entertain --

And stir all day to pretty Tunes
The Breezes fetch along --
And hold the Sunshine in its lap
And bow to everything --

And thread the Dews, all night, like Pearls --
And make itself so fine
A Duchess were too common
For such a noticing --

And even when it dies -- to pass
In Odors so divine --
Like Lowly spices, lain to sleep --
Or Spikenards, perishing --

And then, in Sovereign Barns to dwell --
And dream the Days away,
The Grass so little has to do
I wish I were a Hay --

All the letters I can write
Are not fair as this --
Syllables of Velvet --
Sentences of Plush,
Depths of Ruby, undrained,
Hid, Lip, for Thee --
Play it were a Humming Bird --
And just sipped -- me --

'Tis not that Dying hurts us so --
'Tis Living -- hurts us more --
But Dying -- is a different way --
A Kind behind the Door --

The Southern Custom -- of the Bird --
That ere the Frosts are due --
Accepts a better Latitude --
We -- are the Birds -- that stay.

The Shrivers round Farmers' doors --
For whose reluctant Crumb --
We stipulate -- till pitying Snows
Persuade our Feathers Home.

The face I carry with me -- last --
When I go out of Time --
To take my Rank -- by -- in the West --
That face -- will just be thine --

I'll hand it to the Angel --
That -- Sir -- was my Degree --
In Kingdoms -- you have heard the Raised --
Refer to -- possibly.

He'll take it -- scan it -- step aside --
Return -- with such a crown
As Gabriel -- never capered at --
And beg me put it on --

And then -- he'll turn me round and round --
To an admiring sky --
As one that bore her Master's name --
Sufficient Royalty!

I know a place where Summer strives
With such a practised Frost --
She -- each year -- leads her Daisies back --
Recording briefly -- "Lost" --

But when the South Wind stirs the Pools
And struggles in the lanes --
Her Heart misgives Her, for Her Vow --
And she pours soft Refrains

Into the lap of Adamant --
And spices -- and the Dew --
That stiffens quietly to Quartz --
Upon her Amber Shoe --

I know that He exists.
Somewhere -- in Silence --
He has hid his rare life
From our gross eyes.

'Tis an instant's play.
'Tis a fond Ambush --
Just to make Bliss
Earn her own surprise!

But -- should the play
Prove piercing earnest --
Should the glee -- glaze --
In Death's -- stiff -- stare --

Would not the fun
Look too expensive!
Would not the jest --
Have crawled too far!