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We turn not older with years, but newer every day.
I lived on dread; to those who know The stimulus there is In danger, other impetus Is numb and vital-less. As’t were a spur upon the soul, A fear will urge it where To go without the spectre’s aid Were…
I live with Him—I see His face— I go no more away For Visitor—or Sundown— Death’s single privacy The Only One—forestalling Mine— And that—by Right that He Presents a Claim invisible— No wedlock—granted Me— I live with Him—I hear His…
I like a look of Agony, Because I know it’s true— Men do not sham Convulsion, Nor simulate, a Throe— The Eyes glaze once—and that is Death— Impossible to feign The Beads upon the Forehead By homely Anguish strung.
I learned—at least—what Home could be— How ignorant I had been Of pretty ways of Covenant— How awkward at the Hymn Round our new Fireside—but for this— This pattern—of the Way— Whose Memory drowns me, like the Dip Of a…
I know where Wells grow—Droughtless Wells— Deep dug—for Summer days— Where Mosses go no more away— And Pebble—safely plays— It’s made of Fathoms—and a Belt— A Belt of jagged Stone— Inlaid with Emerald—half way down— And Diamonds—jumbled on— It has…
I know that He exists. Somewhere—in Silence— He has hid his rare life From our gross eyes. ‘Tis an instant’s play. ‘Tis a fond Ambush— Just to make Bliss Earn her own surprise! But—should the play Prove piercing earnest— Should…
I know some lonely Houses off the Road A Robber’d like the look of— Wooden barred, And Windows hanging low, Inviting to— A Portico, Where two could creep— One—hand the Tools— The other peep— To make sure All’s Asleep— Old…
I know lives, I could miss Without a Misery— Others—whose instant’s wanting— Would be Eternity— The last—a scanty Number— ‘Twould scarcely fill a Two— The first—a Gnat’s Horizon Could easily outgrow—
I know a place where summer strives With such a practised frost, She each year leads her daisies back, Recording briefly, “Lost.” But when the south wind stirs the pools And struggles in the lanes, Her heart missives her for…
I keep my pledge. I was not called— Death did not notice me. I bring my Rose. I plight again, By every sainted Bee— By Daisy called from hillside— by Bobolink from lane. Blossom and I— Her oath, and mine—…