Exhilaration - is within - There can no Outer Wine So royally intoxicate As that diviner Brand The Soul achieves - Herself - To drink - or set away For Visiter - Or Sacrament - 'Tis not of Holiday
To stimulate a Man Who hath the Ample Rhine Within his Closet - Best you can Exhale in offering.
For Death - or rather For the Things 'twould buy - This - put away Life's Opportunity - The Things that Death will buy Are Room - Escape from Circumstances - And a Name -
With Gifts of Life How Death's Gifts may compare - We know not - For the Rates - lie Here.
A Secret told - Ceases to be a Secret - then - A Secret - kept - That - can appal but One - Better of it - continual be afraid - Than it - And Whom you told it to - beside.
Of Course - I prayed - And did God Care? He cared as much as on the Air A Bird - had stamped her foot - And cried "Give Me" - My Reason - Life - I had not had - but for Yourself - 'Twere better Charity To leave me in the Atom's Tomb - Merry, and Nought, and gay, and numb - Than this smart Misery.
The Angle of a Landscape - That every time I wake - Between my Curtain and the Wall Upon an ample Crack - Like a Venetian - waiting - Accosts my open eye - Is just a Bough of Apples - Held slanting, in the Sky -
The Pattern of a Chimney - The Forehead of a Hill - Sometimes - a Vane's Forefinger - But that's - Occasional -
The Seasons - shift - my Picture - Upon my Emerald Bough, I wake - to find no - Emeralds - Then - Diamonds - which the Snow
From Polar Caskets - fetched me - The Chimney - and the Hill - And just the Steeple's finger - These - never stir at all.
I'm saying every day "If I should be a Queen, tomorrow" - I'd do this way - And so I deck, a little, If it be, I wake a Bourbon, None on me, bend supercilious - With "This was she - Begged in the Market place - Yesterday".
Court is a stately place - I've heard men say - So I loop my apron, against the Majesty With bright Pins of Buttercup - That not too plain - Rank - overtake me -
And perch my Tongue On Twigs of singing - rather high - But this, might be my brief Term To qualify -
Put from my simple speech all plain word - Take other accents, as such I heard Though but for the Cricket - just, And but for the Bee - Not in all the Meadow - One accost me -
Better to be ready - Than did next morn Meet me in Arragon - My old Gown - on -
And the surprised Air Rustics - wear - Summoned - unexpectedly - To Exeter.
A precious - mouldering pleasure - 'tis - To meet an Antique Book - In just the Dress his Century wore - A privilege - I think - His venerable Hand to take - And warming in our own - A passage back - or two - to make - To Times when he - was young -
His quaint opinions - to inspect - His thought to ascertain On Them[e]s concern our mutual mind - The Literature of Man -
What interested Scholars - most - What Competitions ran - When Plato - was a Certainty - And Sophocles - a Man -
When Sappho - was a living Girl - And Beatrice wore The Gown that Dante - deified - Facts Centuries before
He traverses - familiar - As One should come to Town - And tell you all your Dreams - were true - He lived - where Dreams were born -
His presence is Enchantment - You beg him not to go - Old Volume shake their Vellum Heads And tantalize - just so.
Heaven is so far of the Mind That were the Mind dissolved - The Site - of it - by Architect Could not again be proved - 'Tis vast - as our Capacity - As fair - as our idea - To Him of adequate desire No further 'tis, than Here.
She lay as if at play Her life had leaped away - Intending to return - But not so soon - Her merry Arms, half dropt - As if for lull of sport - An instant had forgot - The Trick to start -
Her dancing Eyes - ajar - As if their Owner were Still sparkling through For fun - at you -
Her Morning at the door - Devising, I am sure - To force her sleep - So light - so deep.
How sick - to wait - in any place - but thine - I knew last night - when someone tried to twine - Thinking - perhaps - that I looked tired - or alone - Or breaking - almost - with unspoken pain - And I turned - ducal - That right - was thine - One port - suffices - for a Brig - like mine -
Our's be the tossing - wild though the sea - Rather than a Mooring - unshared by thee. Our's be the Cargo - unladen - here - Rather than the "spicy isles" And thou - not there.