551

There is a Shame of Nobleness --
Confronting Sudden Pelf --
A finer Shame of Ecstasy --
Convicted of Itself --

A best Disgrace -- a Brave Man feels --
Acknowledged -- of the Brave --
One More -- "Ye Blessed" -- to be told --
But that's -- Behind the Grave --

An ignorance a Sunset
Confer upon the Eye --
Of Territory -- Color --
Circumference -- Decay --

Its Amber Revelation
Exhilirate -- Debase --
Omnipotence' inspection
Of Our inferior face --

And when the solemn features
Confirm -- in Victory --
We start -- as if detected
In Immortality --

One Crucifixion is recorded -- only --
How many be
Is not affirmed of Mathematics --
Or History --

One Calvary -- exhibited to Stranger --
As many be
As persons -- or Peninsulas --
Gethsemane --

Is but a Province -- in the Being's Centre --
Judea --
For Journey -- or Crusade's Achieving --
Too near --

Our Lord -- indeed -- made Compound Witness --
And yet --
There's newer -- nearer Crucifixion
Than That --

The Black Berry -- wears a Thorn in his side --
But no Man heard Him cry --
He offers His Berry, just the same
To Partridge -- and to Boy --

He sometimes holds upon the Fence --
Or struggles to a Tree --
Or clasps a Rock, with both His Hands --
But not for Sympathy --

We -- tell a Hurt -- to cool it --
This Mourner -- to the Sky
A little further reaches -- instead --
Brave Black Berry --

Trust in the Unexpected --
By this -- was William Kidd
Persuaded of the Buried Gold --
As One had testified --

Through this -- the old Philosopher --
His Talismanic Stone
Discerned -- still withholden
To effort undivine --

'Twas this -- allured Columbus --
When Genoa -- withdrew
Before an Apparition
Baptized America --

The Same -- afflicted Thomas --
When Deity assured
'Twas better -- the perceiving not --
Provided it believed --

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 --

She hideth Her the last --
And is the first, to rise --
Her Night doth hardly recompense
The Closing of Her eyes --

She doth Her Purple Work --
And putteth Her away
In low Apartments in the Sod -
As worthily as We.

To imitate her life
As impotent would be
As make of Our imperfect Mints,
The Julep -- of the Bee --

But little Carmine hath her face --
Of Emerald scant -- her Gown --
Her Beauty -- is the love she doth --
Itself -- exhibit -- Mine --

It knew no Medicine --
It was not Sickness -- then --
Nor any need of Surgery --
And therefore -- 'twas not Pain --

It moved away the Cheeks --
A Dimple at a time --
And left the Profile -- plainer --
And in the place of Bloom

It left the little Tint
That never had a Name --
You've seen it on a Cast's face --
Was Paradise -- to blame --

If momently ajar --
Temerity -- drew near --
And sickened -- ever afterward
For Somewhat that it saw?

It knew no lapse, nor Diminuation --
But large -- serene --
Burned on -- until through Dissolution --
It failed from Men --

I could not deem these Planetary forces
Annulled --
But suffered an Exchange of Territory --
Or World --