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I shall keep singing! Birds will pass me On their way to Yellower Climes— Each—with a Robin’s expectation— I—with my Redbreast— And my Rhymes— Late—when I take my place in summer— But—I shall bring a fuller tune— Vespers—are sweeter than…
I send Two Sunsets— Day and I—in competition ran— I finished Two—and several Stars— While He—was making One— His own was ampler—but as I Was saying to a friend— Mine—is the more convenient To Carry in the Hand—
I see thee better—in the Dark— I do not need a Light— The Love of Thee—a Prism be— Excelling Violet— I see thee better for the Years That hunch themselves between— The Miner’s Lamp—sufficient be— To nullify the Mine— And…
I saw no Way—The Heavens were stitched— I felt the Columns close— The Earth reversed her Hemispheres— I touched the Universe— And back it slid—and I alone— A Speck upon a Ball— Went out upon Circumference— Beyond the Dip of…
I rose—because He sank— I thought it would be opposite— But when his power dropped— My Soul grew straight. I cheered my fainting Prince— I sang firm—even—Chants— I helped his Film—with Hymn— And when the Dews drew off That held…
I robbed the Woods— The trusting Woods. The unsuspecting Trees Brought out their Burs and mosses My fantasy to please. I scanned their trinkets curious—I grasped—I bore away— What will the solemn Hemlock— What will the Oak tree say?
I reckon—when I count it all— First—Poets—Then the Sun— Then Summer—Then the Heaven of God— And then—the List is done— But, looking back—the First so seems To Comprehend the Whole— The Others look a needless Show— So I write—Poets—All— Their…
I reason, Earth is short— And Anguish—absolute— And many hurt, But, what of that? I reason, we could die— The best Vitality Cannot excel Decay, But, what of that? I reason, that in Heaven— Somehow, it will be even— Some…
I read my sentence—steadily— Reviewed it with my eyes, To see that I made no mistake In its extremest clause— The Date, and manner, of the shame— And then the Pious Form That “God have mercy” on the Soul The…
I prayed, at first, a little Girl, Because they told me to— But stopped, when qualified to guess How prayer would feel—to me— If I believed God looked around, Each time my Childish eye Fixed full, and steady, on his…