Garland for Queens, may be –
Laurels — for rare degree
Of soul or sword.
Ah — but remembering me –
Ah — but remembering thee –
Nature in chivalry –
Nature in charity –
Nature in equity –
This Rose ordained!
Popularity: 2% [?]
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Garland for Queens, may be –
Laurels — for rare degree
Of soul or sword.
Ah — but remembering me –
Ah — but remembering thee –
Nature in chivalry –
Nature in charity –
Nature in equity –
This Rose ordained!
Popularity: 2% [?]
There is a morn by men unseen –
Whose maids upon remoter green
Keep their Seraphic May –
And all day long, with dance and game,
And gambol I may never name –
Employ their holiday.
Here to light measure, move the feet
Which walk no more the village street –
Nor by the wood are found –
Here are the birds that sought the sun
When last year’s distaff idle hung
And summer’s brows were bound.
Ne’er saw I such a wondrous scene –
Ne’er such a ring on such a green –
Nor so serene array –
As if the stars some summer night
Should swing their cups of Chrysolite –
And revel till the day –
Like thee to dance — like thee to sing –
People upon the mystic green –
I ask, each new May Morn.
I wait thy far, fantastic bells –
Unto the different dawn!
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All these my banners be.
I sow my pageantry
In May –
It rises train by train –
Then sleeps in state again –
My chancel — all the plain
Today.
To lose — if one can find again –
To miss — if one shall meet –
The Burglar cannot rob — then –
The Broker cannot cheat.
So build the hillocks gaily
Thou little spade of mine
Leaving nooks for Daisy
And for Columbine –
You and I the secret
Of the Crocus know –
Let us chant it softly –
“There is no more snow!”
To him who keeps an Orchis’ heart –
The swamps are pink with June.
Popularity: 1% [?]
The Gentian weaves her fringes –
The Maple’s loom is red –
My departing blossoms
Obviate parade.
A brief, but patient illness –
An hour to prepare,
And one below this morning
Is where the angels are –
It was a short procession,
The Bobolink was there –
An aged Bee addressed us –
And then we knelt in prayer –
We trust that she was willing –
We ask that we may be.
Summer — Sister — Seraph!
Let us go with thee!
In the name of the Bee –
And of the Butterfly –
And of the Breeze — Amen!
Popularity: 2% [?]
One Sister have I in our house,
And one, a hedge away.
There’s only one recorded,
But both belong to me.
One came the road that I came –
And wore my last year’s gown –
The other, as a bird her nest,
Builded our hearts among.
She did not sing as we did –
It was a different tune –
Herself to her a music
As Bumble bee of June.
Today is far from Childhood –
But up and down the hills
I held her hand the tighter –
Which shortened all the miles –
And still her hum
The years among,
Deceives the Butterfly;
Still in her Eye
The Violets lie
Mouldered this many May.
I spilt the dew –
But took the morn –
I chose this single star
From out the wide night’s numbers –
Sue – forevermore!
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Awake ye muses nine, sing me a strain divine,
Unwind the solemn twine, and tie my Valentine!
Oh the Earth was made for lovers, for damsel, and hopeless swain,
For sighing, and gentle whispering, and unity made of twain.
All things do go a courting, in earth, or sea, or air,
God hath made nothing single but thee in His world so fair!
The bride, and then the bridegroom, the two, and then the one,
Adam, and Eve, his consort, the moon, and then the sun;
The life doth prove the precept, who obey shall happy be,
Who will not serve the sovereign, be hanged on fatal tree.
The high do seek the lowly, the great do seek the small,
None cannot find who seeketh, on this terrestrial ball;
The bee doth court the flower, the flower his suit receives,
And they make merry wedding, whose guests are hundred leaves;
The wind doth woo the branches, the branches they are won,
And the father fond demandeth the maiden for his son.
The storm doth walk the seashore humming a mournful tune,
The wave with eye so pensive, looketh to see the moon,
Their spirits meet together, they make their solemn vows,
No more he singeth mournful, her sadness she doth lose.
The worm doth woo the mortal, death claims a living bride,
Night unto day is married, morn unto eventide;
Earth is a merry damsel, and heaven a knight so true,
And Earth is quite coquettish, and beseemeth in vain to sue.
Now to the application, to the reading of the roll,
To bringing thee to justice, and marshalling thy soul:
Thou art a human solo, a being cold, and lone,
Wilt have no kind companion, thou reap’st what thou hast sown.
Hast never silent hours, and minutes all too long,
And a deal of sad reflection, and wailing instead of song?
There’s Sarah, and Eliza, and Emeline so fair,
And Harriet, and Susan, and she with curling hair!
Thine eyes are sadly blinded, but yet thou mayest see
Six true, and comely maidens sitting upon the tree;
Approach that tree with caution, then up it boldly climb,
And seize the one thou lovest, nor care for space, or time!
Then bear her to the greenwood, and build for her a bower,
And give her what she asketh, jewel, or bird, or flower –
And bring the fife, and trumpet, and beat upon the drum –
And bid the world Goodmorrow, and go to glory home!
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If I may have it when it’s dead
I will contented be;
If just as soon as breath is out
It shall belong to me,
Until they lock it in the grave,
‘T is bliss I cannot weigh,
For though they lock thee in the grave,
Myself can hold the key.
Think of it, lover! I and thee
Permitted face to face to be;
After a life, a death we’ll say, –
For death was that, and this is thee.
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Superfluous were the sun
When excellence is dead;
He were superfluous every day,
For every day is said
That syllable whose faith
Just saves it from despair,
And whose ‘I’ll meet you’ hesitates
If love inquire, ‘Where?’
Upon his dateless fame
Our periods may lie,
As stars that drop anonymous
From an abundant sky.
Popularity: 3% [?]