Category Poem

They leave us with the Infinite. But He—is not a man— His fingers are the size of fists— His fists, the size of men— And whom he foundeth, with his Arm As Himmaleh, shall stand— Gibraltar’s Everlasting Shoe Poised lightly…

“They have not chosen me,” he said, “But I have chosen them!” Brave—Broken hearted statement— Uttered in Bethlehem! I could not have told it, But since Jesus dared— Sovereign! Know a Daisy They dishonor shared!

They have a little Odor—that to me Is metre—nay—’tis melody— And spiciest at fading—indicate— A Habit—of a Laureate—

They dropped like flakes, they dropped like stars, Like petals from a rose, When suddenly across the lune A wind with fingers goes. They perished in the seamless grass,– No eye could find the place; But God on his repealless…

They called me to the Window, for ” ‘Twas Sunset”—Some one said— I only saw a Sapphire Farm— And just a Single Herd— Of Opal Cattle—feeding far Upon so vain a Hill— As even while I looked—dissolved— Nor Cattle were—nor…

They ask but our Delight— The Darlings of the Soil And grant us all their Countenance For a penurious smile.

These—saw Visions— Latch them softly— These—held Dimples— Smooth them slow— This—addressed departing accents— Quick—Sweet Mouth—to miss thee so— This—We stroked— Unnumbered Satin— These—we held among our own— Fingers of the Slim Aurora— Not so arrogant—this Noon— These—adjust—that ran to meet…

These tested Our Horizon— Then disappeared As Birds before achieving A Latitude. Our Retrospection of Them A fixed Delight, But our Anticipation A Dice—a Doubt—

These are the days when Birds come back— A very few—a Bird or two— To take a backward look. These are the days when skies resume The old—old sophistries of June— A blue and gold mistake. Oh fraud that cannot…

There’s something quieter than sleep Within this inner room! It wears a sprig upon its breast— And will not tell its name. Some touch it, and some kiss it— Some chafe its idle hand— It has a simple gravity I…