see

The Court is far away –
No Umpire — have I –
My Sovereign is offended –
To gain his grace — I’d die!

I’ll seek his royal feet –
I’ll say — Remember — King –
Thou shalt — thyself — one day — a Child –
Implore a larger — thing –

That Empire — is of Czars –
As small — they say — as I –
Grant me — that day — the royalty –
To intercede — for Thee –

Could I — then — shut the door –
Lest my beseeching face — at last –
Rejected — be — of Her?

The Flower must not blame the Bee –
That seeketh his felicity
Too often at her door –

But teach the Footman from Vevay –
Mistress is “not at home” — to say –
To people — any more!

We don’t cry — Tim and I,
We are far too grand –
But we bolt the door tight
To prevent a friend –

Then we hide our brave face
Deep in our hand –
Not to cry — Tim and I –
We are far too grand –

Nor to dream — he and me –
Do we condescend –
We just shut our brown eye
To see to the end –

Tim — see Cottages –
But, Oh, so high!
Then — we shake — Tim and I –
And lest I — cry –

Tim — reads a little Hymn –
And we both pray –
Please, Sir, I and Tim –
Always lost the way!

We must die — by and by –
Clergymen say –
Tim — shall — if I — do –
I — too — if he –

How shall we arrange it –
Tim — was — so — shy?
Take us simultaneous — Lord –
I — “Tim” — and Me!

“Faith” is a fine invention
When Gentlemen can see –
But Microscopes are prudent
In an Emergency.

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!

My wheel is in the dark!
I cannot see a spoke
Yet know its dripping feet
Go round and round.

My foot is on the Tide!
An unfrequented road –
Yet have all roads
A clearing at the end –

Some have resigned the Loom –
Some in the busy tomb
Find quaint employ –

Some with new — stately feet –
Pass royal through the gate –
Flinging the problem back
At you and I!

I have a Bird in spring
Which for myself doth sing –
The spring decoys.
And as the summer nears –
And as the Rose appears,
Robin is gone.

Yet do I not repine
Knowing that Bird of mine
Though flown –
Learneth beyond the sea
Melody new for me
And will return.

Fast is a safer hand
Held in a truer Land
Are mine –
And though they now depart,
Tell I my doubting heart
They’re thine.

In a serener Bright,
In a more golden light
I see
Each little doubt and fear,
Each little discord here
Removed.

Then will I not repine,
Knowing that Bird of mine
Though flown
Shall in a distant tree
Bright melody for me
Return.