It was a quiet seeming Day - There was no harm in earth or sky - Till with the setting sun There strayed an accidental Red A strolling Hue, one would have said To westward of the Town - But when the Earth begun to jar And Houses vanished with a roar And Human Nature hid We comprehended by the Awe As those that Dissolution saw The Poppy in the Cloud.
How lonesome the Wind must feel Nights - When People have put out the Lights And everything that has an Inn Closes the shutter and goes in - How pompous the Wind must feel Noons Stepping to incorporeal Tunes Correcting errors of the sky And clarifying scenery How mighty the Wind must feel Morns Encamping on a thousand Dawns - Espousing each and spurning all Then soaring to his Temple Tall.
How Human Nature dotes On what it cant detect - The moment that a Plot is plumbed It's meaning 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?
Crisis is sweet and yet the Heart Upon the hither side Has Dowers of Prospective Surrendered by the Tried - Inquire of the proudest Rose Which rapture - she preferred And she will tell you sighing - The transport of the Bud.
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.
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.
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.
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 their's - Why, Katie, Treason has a Voice - But mine - dispels - in Tears.