held

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A House upon the Height --A House upon the Height –
That Wagon never reached –
No Dead, were ever carried down –
No Peddler’s Cart — approached –

Whose Chimney never smoked –
Whose Windows — Night and Morn –
Caught Sunrise first — and Sunset — last –
Then — held an Empty Pane –

Whose fate — Conjecture knew –
No other neighbor — did –
And what it was — we never lisped –
Because He — never told –

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The Angle of a Landscape --The Angle of a Landscape –
That every time I wake –
Between my Curtain and the Wall
Upon an ample Crack –

Like a Venetian — waiting –
Accosts my open eye –
Is just a Bough of Apples –
Held slanting, in the Sky –

The Pattern of a Chimney –
The Forehead of a Hill –
Sometimes — a Vane’s Forefinger –
But that’s — Occasional –

The Seasons — shift — my Picture –
Upon my Emerald Bough,
I wake — to find no — Emeralds –
Then — Diamonds — which the Snow

From Polar Caskets — fetched me –
The Chimney — and the Hill –
And just the Steeple’s finger –
These — never stir at all –

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I felt my life with both my handsI felt my life with both my hands
To see if it was there –
I held my spirit to the Glass,
To prove it possibler –

I turned my Being round and round
And paused at every pound
To ask the Owner’s name –
For doubt, that I should know the Sound –

I judged my features — jarred my hair –
I pushed my dimples by, and waited –
If they — twinkled back –
Conviction might, of me –

I told myself, “Take Courage, Friend –
That — was a former time –
But we might learn to like the Heaven,
As well as our Old Home!”

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I tend my flowers for thee --I tend my flowers for thee –
Bright Absentee!
My Fuchsia’s Coral Seams
Rip — while the Sower — dreams –

Geraniums — tint — and spot –
Low Daisies — dot –
My Cactus — splits her Beard
To show her throat –

Carnations — tip their spice –
And Bees — pick up –
A Hyacinth — I hid –
Puts out a Ruffled Head –
And odors fall
From flasks — so small –
You marvel how they held –

Globe Roses — break their satin glake –
Upon my Garden floor –
Yet — thou — not there –
I had as lief they bore
No Crimson — more –

Thy flower — be gay –
Her Lord — away!
It ill becometh me –
I’ll dwell in Calyx — Gray –
How modestly — alway –
Thy Daisy –
Draped for thee!

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Tie the Strings to my Life, My LordTie the Strings to my Life, My Lord,
Then, I am ready to go!
Just a look at the Horses —
Rapid! That will do!

Put me in on the firmest side —
So I shall never fall —
For we must ride to the Judgment —
And it’s partly, down Hill —

But never I mind the steeper —
And never I mind the Sea —
Held fast in Everlasting Race —
By my own Choice, and Thee —

Goodbye to the Life I used to live —
And the World I used to know —
And kiss the Hills, for me, just once —
Then — I am ready to go!

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When we stand on the tops of Things --When we stand on the tops of Things –
And like the Trees, look down –
The smoke all cleared away from it –
And Mirrors on the scene –

Just laying light — no soul will wink
Except it have the flaw –
The Sound ones, like the Hills — shall stand –
No Lighting, scares away –

The Perfect, nowhere be afraid –
They bear their dauntless Heads,
Where others, dare not go at Noon,
Protected by their deeds –

The Stars dare shine occasionally
Upon a spotted World –
And Suns, go surer, for their Proof,
As if an Axle, held –

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I've heard an Organ talk, sometimesI’ve heard an Organ talk, sometimes
In a Cathedral Aisle,
And understood no word it said –
Yet held my breath, the while –

And risen up — and gone away,
A more Berdardine Girl –
Yet — know not what was done to me
In that old Chapel Aisle.

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