god

One Year ago — jots what?
God — spell the word! I — can’t –
Was’t Grace? Not that –
Was’t Glory? That — will do –
Spell slower — Glory –

Such Anniversary shall be –

Unto like Story — Trouble has enticed me –
How Kinsmen fell –
Brothers and Sister — who preferred the Glory –
And their young will
Bent to the Scaffold, or in Dungeons — chanted –
Till God’s full time –
When they let go the ignominy — smiling –
And Shame went still –

Unto guessed Crests, my moaning fancy, leads me,
Worn fair
By Heads rejected — in the lower country –
Of honors there –
Such spirit makes her perpetual mention,
That I — grown bold –
Step martial — at my Crucifixion –
As Trumpets — rolled –

Feet, small as mine — have marched in Revolution
Firm to the Drum –
Hands — not so stout — hoisted them — in witness –
When Speech went numb –
Let me not shame their sublime deportments –
Drilled bright –
Beckoning — Etruscan invitation –
Toward Light –

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 –

Doubt Me! My Dim Companion!
Why, God, would be content
With but a fraction of the Life –
Poured thee, without a stint –
The whole of me — forever –
What more the Woman can,
Say quick, that I may dower thee
With last Delight I own!

It cannot be my Spirit –
For that was thine, before –
I ceded all of Dust I knew –
What Opulence the more
Had I — a freckled Maiden,
Whose farthest of Degree,
Was — that she might –
Some distant Heaven,
Dwell timidly, with thee!

Sift her, from Brow to Barefoot!
Strain till your last Surmise –
Drop, like a Tapestry, away,
Before the Fire’s Eyes –
Winnow her finest fondness –
But hallow just the snow
Intact, in Everlasting flake –
Oh, Caviler, for you!

What is — “Paradise” –
Who live there –
Are they “Farmers” –
Do they “hoe” –
Do they know that this is “Amherst” –
And that I — am coming — too –

Do they wear “new shoes” — in “Eden” –
Is it always pleasant — there –
Won’t they scold us — when we’re homesick –
Or tell God — how cross we are –

You are sure there’s such a person
As “a Father” — in the sky –
So if I get lost — there — ever –
Or do what the Nurse calls “die” –
I shan’t walk the “Jasper” — barefoot –
Ransomed folks — won’t laugh at me –
Maybe — “Eden” a’n't so lonesome
As New England used to be!

A single Screw of Flesh
Is all that pins the Soul
That stands for Deity, to Mine,
Upon my side the Veil –

Once witnessed of the Gauze –
Its name is put away
As far from mine, as if no plight
Had printed yesterday,

In tender — solemn Alphabet,
My eyes just turned to see,
When it was smuggled by my sight
Into Eternity –

More Hands — to hold — These are but Two –
One more new-mailed Nerve
Just granted, for the Peril’s sake –
Some striding — Giant — Love –

So greater than the Gods can show,
They slink before the Clay,
That not for all their Heaven can boast
Will let its Keepsake — go

Over the fence –
Strawberries — grow –
Over the fence –
I could climb — if I tried, I know –
Berries are nice!

But — if I stained my Apron –
God would certainly scold!
Oh, dear, — I guess if He were a Boy –
He’d — climb — if He could!

If He dissolve — then –
there is nothing — more –
Eclipse — at Midnight –
It was dark — before –

Sunset — at Easter –
Blindness — on the Dawn –
Faint Star of Bethlehem –
Gone down!

Would but some God — inform Him –
Or it be too late!
Say — that the pulse just lisps –
The Chariots wait –

Say — that a little life — for His –
Is leaking — red –
His little Spaniel — tell Him!
Will He heed?