For largest Woman’s Hearth I knew –
‘Tis little I can do –
And yet the largest Woman’s Heart
Could hold an Arrow — too –
And so, instructed by my own,
I tenderer, turn Me to.
The Soul’s Superior instants
Occur to Her — alone –
When friend — and Earth’s occasion
Have infinite withdrawn –
Or She — Herself — ascended
To too remote a Height
For lower Recognition
Than Her Omnipotent –
This Mortal Abolition
Is seldom — but as fair
As Apparition — subject
To Autocratic Air –
Eternity’s disclosure
To favorites — a few –
Of the Colossal substance
Of Immortality
Like Some Old fashioned Miracle
When Summertime is done –
Seems Summer’s Recollection
And the Affairs of June
As infinite Tradition
As Cinderella’s Bays –
Or Little John — of Lincoln Green –
Or Blue Beard’s Galleries –
Her Bees have a fictitious Hum –
Her Blossoms, like a Dream –
Elate us — till we almost weep –
So plausible — they seem –
Her Memories like Strains — Review –
When Orchestra is dumb –
The Violin in Baize replaced –
And Ear — and Heaven — numb –
“Morning” — means “Milking” — to the Farmer –
Dawn — to the Teneriffe –
Dice — to the Maid –
Morning means just Risk — to the Lover –
Just revelation — to the Beloved –
Epicures — date a Breakfast — by it –
Brides — an Apocalypse –
Worlds — a Flood –
Faint-going Lives — Their Lapse from Sighing –
Faith — The Experiment of Our Lord


