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The Wind didn't come from the Orchard -- today --The Wind didn’t come from the Orchard — today –
Further than that –
Nor stop to play with the Hay –
Nor joggle a Hat –
He’s a transitive fellow — very –
Rely on that –

If He leave a Bur at the door
We know He has climbed a Fir –
But the Fir is Where — Declare –
Were you ever there?

If He brings Odors of Clovers –
And that is His business — not Ours –
Then He has been with the Mowers –
Whetting away the Hours
To sweet pauses of Hay –
His Way — of a June Day –

If He fling Sand, and Pebble –
Little Boys Hats — and Stubble –
With an occasional Steeple –
And a hoarse “Get out of the way, I say,”
Who’d be the fool to stay?
Would you — Say –
Would you be the fool to stay?

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I should have been too glad, I see --I should have been too glad, I see –
Too lifted — for the scant degree
Of Life’s penurious Round –
My little Circuit would have shamed
This new Circumference — have blamed –
The homelier time behind.

I should have been too saved — I see –
Too rescued — Fear too dim to me
That I could spell the Prayer
I knew so perfect — yesterday –
That Scalding One — Sabachthani –
Recited fluent — here –

Earth would have been too much — I see –
And Heaven — not enough for me –
I should have had the Joy
Without the Fear — to justify –
The Palm — without the Calvary –
So Savior — Crucify –
Defeat — whets Victory — they say –
The Reefs — in old Gethsemane –
Endear the Coast — beyond!
‘Tis Beggars — Banquets — can define –
‘Tis Parching — vitalizes Wine –
“Faith” bleats — to understand!

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Give little Anguish --Give little Anguish –
Lives will fret –
Give Avalanches –
And they’ll slant –
Straighten — look cautious for their Breath –
But make no syllable — like Death –
Who only shows the Marble Disc –
Sublimer sort — than Speech –

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Like Some Old fashioned MiracleLike 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 –

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A shady friend — for Torrid days —A shady friend — for Torrid days —
Is easier to find —
Than one of higher temperature
For Frigid — hour of Mind —

The Vane a little to the East —
Scares Muslin souls — away —
If Broadcloth Hearts are firmer —
Than those of Organdy —

Who is to blame? The Weaver?
Ah, the bewildering thread!
The Tapestries of Paradise
So notelessly — are made!

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Savior! I've no one else to tell --Savior! I’ve no one else to tell –
And so I trouble thee.
I am the one forgot thee so –
Dost thou remember me?
Nor, for myself, I came so far –
That were the little load –
I brought thee the imperial Heart
I had not strength to hold –
The Heart I carried in my own –
Till mine too heavy grew –
Yet — strangest — heavier since it went –
Is it too large for you?

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To die -- takes just a little while --To die — takes just a little while –
They say it doesn’t hurt –
It’s only fainter — by degrees –
And then — it’s out of sight –

A darker Ribbon — for a Day –
A Crape upon the Hat –
And then the pretty sunshine comes –
And helps us to forget –

The absent — mystic — creature –
That but for love of us –
Had gone to sleep — that soundest time –
Without the weariness –

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If He dissolve -- then --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?

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