Two -- were immortal twice --
The privilege of few --
Eternity -- obtained -- in Time --
Reversed Divinity --

That our ignoble Eyes
The quality conceive
Of Paradise superlative --
Through their Comparative.

I play at Riches -- to appease
The Clamoring for Gold --
It kept me from a Thief, I think,
For often, overbold

With Want, and Opportunity --
I could have done a Sin
And been Myself that easy Thing
An independent Man --

But often as my lot displays
Too hungry to be borne
I deem Myself what I would be --
And novel Comforting

My Poverty and I derive --
We question if the Man --
Who own -- Esteem the Opulence --
As We -- Who never Can --

Should ever these exploring Hands
Chance Sovereign on a Mine --
Or in the long -- uneven term
To win, become their turn --

How fitter they will be -- for Want --
Enlightening so well --
I know not which, Desire, or Grant --
Be wholly beautiful --

Time feels so vast that were it not
For an Eternity --
I fear me this Circumference
Engross my Finity --

To His exclusion, who prepare
By Processes of Size
For the Stupendous Vision
Of his diameters --

Who Court obtain within Himself
Sees every Man a King --
And Poverty of Monarchy
Is an interior thing --

No Man depose
Whom Fate Ordain --
And Who can add a Crown
To Him who doth continual
Conspire against His Own

No Notice gave She, but a Change --
No Message, but a Sigh --
For Whom, the Time did not suffice
That She should specify.

She was not warm, though Summer shone
Nor scrupulous of cold
Though Rime by Rime, the steady Frost
Upon Her Bosom piled --

Of shrinking ways -- she did not fright
Though all the Village looked --
But held Her gravity aloft --
And met the gaze -- direct --

And when adjusted like a Seed
In careful fitted Ground
Unto the Everlasting Spring
And hindered but a Mound

Her Warm return, if so she chose --
And We -- imploring drew --
Removed our invitation by
As Some She never knew --

This Bauble was preferred of Bees --
By Butterflies admired
At Heavenly -- Hopeless Distances --
Was justified of Bird --

Did Noon -- enamel -- in Herself
Was Summer to a Score
Who only knew of Universe --
It had created Her.

A Planted Life -- diversified
With Gold and Silver Pain
To prove the presence of the Ore
In Particles -- 'tis when

A Value struggle -- it exist --
A Power -- will proclaim
Although Annihilation pile
Whole Chaoses on Him --

Expectation -- is Contentment --
Gain -- Satiety --
But Satiety -- Conviction
Of Necessity

Of an Austere trait in Pleasure --
Good, without alarm
Is a too established Fortune --
Danger -- deepens Sum --

So set its Sun in Thee
What Day be dark to me --
What Distance -- far --
So I the Ships may see
That touch -- how seldomly --
Thy Shore?

Unable are the Loved to die
For Love is Immortality,
Nay, it is Deity --

Unable they that love -- to die
For Love reforms Vitality
Into Divinity.

Her Grace is all she has --
And that, so least displays --
One Art to recognize, must be,
Another Art, to praise.

The Veins of other Flowers
The Scarlet Flowers are
Till Nature leisure has for Terms
As "Branch," and "Jugular."

We pass, and she abides.
We conjugate Her Skill
While She creates and federates
Without a syllable.

A Light exists in Spring
Not present on the Year
At any other period --
When March is scarcely here

A Color stands abroad
On Solitary Fields
That Science cannot overtake
But Human Nature feels.

It waits upon the Lawn,
It shows the furthest Tree
Upon the furthest Slope you know
It almost speaks to you.

Then as Horizons step
Or Noons report away
Without the Formula of sound
It passes and we stay --

A quality of loss
Affecting our Content
As Trade had suddenly encroached
Upon a Sacrament.