I got so I could take his name –
Without — Tremendous gain –
That Stop-sensation — on my Soul –
And Thunder — in the Room –

I got so I could walk across
That Angle in the floor,
Where he turned so, and I turned — how –
And all our Sinew tore –

I got so I could stir the Box –
In which his letters grew
Without that forcing, in my breath –
As Staples — driven through –

Could dimly recollect a Grace –
I think, they call it “God” –
Renowned to ease Extremity –
When Formula, had failed –

And shape my Hands –
Petition’s way,
Tho’ ignorant of a word
That Ordination — utters –

My Business, with the Cloud,
If any Power behind it, be,
Not subject to Despair –
It care, in some remoter way,
For so minute affair
As Misery –
Itself, too vast, for interrupting — more –

That after Horror — that ’twas us –
That passed the mouldering Pier –
Just as the Granite Crumb let go –
Our Savior, by a Hair –

A second more, had dropped too deep
For Fisherman to plumb –
The very profile of the Thought
Puts Recollection numb –

The possibility — to pass
Without a Moment’s Bell –
Into Conjecture’s presence –
Is like a Face of Steel –
That suddenly looks into ours
With a metallic grin –
The Cordiality of Death –
Who drills his Welcome in –

If your Nerve, deny you –
Go above your Nerve –
He can lean against the Grave,
If he fear to swerve –

That’s a steady posture –
Never any bend
Held of those Brass arms –
Best Giant made –

If your Soul seesaw –
Lift the Flesh door –
The Poltroon wants Oxygen –
Nothing more –

The Robin’s my Criterion for Tune —
Because I grow — where Robins do —
But, were I Cuckoo born —
I’d swear by him —
The ode familiar — rules the Noon —
The Buttercup’s, my Whim for Bloom —
Because, we’re Orchard sprung —
But, were I Britain born,
I’d Daisies spurn —
None but the Nut — October fit —
Because, through dropping it,
The Seasons flit — I’m taught —
Without the Snow’s Tableau
Winter, were lie — to me —
Because I see — New Englandly —
The Queen, discerns like me —
Provincially —

The Drop, that wrestles in the Sea—
Forgets her own locality—
As I—toward Thee—

She knows herself an incense small—
Yet small—she sighs—if All—is All—
How larger—be?

The Ocean—smiles—at her Conceit—
But she, forgetting Amphitrite—
Pleads—”Me”?

A Mien to move a Queen –
Half Child — Half Heroine –
An Orleans in the Eye
That puts its manner by
For humbler Company
When none are near
Even a Tear –
Its frequent Visitor –

A Bonnet like a Duke –
And yet a Wren’s Peruke
Were not so shy
Of Goer by –
And Hands — so slight –
They would elate a Sprite
With Merriment –

A Voice that Alters — Low
And on the Ear can go
Like Let of Snow –
Or shift supreme –
As tone of Realm
On Subjects Diadem –

Too small — to fear –
Too distant — to endear –
And so Men Compromise
And just — revere –

How noteless Men, and Pleiads, stand,
Until a sudden sky
Reveals the fact that One is rapt
Forever from the Eye —

Members of the Invisible,
Existing, while we stare,
In Leagueless Opportunity,
O’ertakenless, as the Air —

Why didn’t we detain Them?
The Heavens with a smile,
Sweep by our disappointed Heads
Without a syllable —

‘Tis so appalling—it exhilarates—
So over Horror, it half Captivates—
The Soul stares after it, secure—
A Sepulchre, fears frost, no more—

To scan a Ghost, is faint—
But grappling, conquers it—
How easy, Torment, now—
Suspense kept sawing so—

The Truth, is Bald, and Cold—
But that will hold—
If any are not sure—
We show them—prayer—
But we, who know,
Stop hoping, now—

Looking at Death, is Dying—
Just let go the Breath—
And not the pillow at your Cheek
So Slumbereth—

Others, Can wrestle—
Yours, is done—
And so of Woe, bleak dreaded—come,
It sets the Fright at liberty—
And Terror’s free—
Gay, Ghastly, Holiday!