sun

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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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The Sun -- just touched the Morning --The Sun — just touched the Morning –
The Morning — Happy thing –
Supposed that He had come to dwell –
And Life would all be Spring!

She felt herself supremer –
A Raised — Ethereal Thing!
Henceforth — for Her — What Holiday!
Meanwhile — Her wheeling King –
Trailed — slow — along the Orchards –
His haughty — spangled Hems –
Leaving a new necessity!
The want of Diadems!

The Morning — fluttered — staggered –
Felt feebly — for Her Crown –
Her unanointed forehead –
Henceforth — Her only One!

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Should you but fail at -- Sea --Should you but fail at — Sea –
In sight of me –
Or doomed lie –
Next Sun — to die –
Or rap — at Paradise — unheard
I’d harass God
Until he let you in!

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Is it true, dear Sue?It can’t be “Summer”!
That — got through!
It’s early — yet — for “Spring”!
There’s that long town of White — to cross –
Before the Blackbirds sing!
It can’t be “Dying”!
It’s too Rouge –
The Dead shall go in White –
So Sunset shuts my question down
With Cuffs of Chrysolite!

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Morning -- is the place for Dew --Morning — is the place for Dew –
Corn — is made at Noon –
After dinner light — for flowers –
Dukes — for Setting Sun!

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Make me a picture of the sun --Make me a picture of the sun –
So I can hang it in my room –
And make believe I’m getting warm
When others call it “Day”!

Draw me a Robin — on a stem –
So I am hearing him, I’ll dream,
And when the Orchards stop their tune –
Put my pretense — away –

Say if it’s really — warm at noon –
Whether it’s Buttercups — that “skim” –
Or Butterflies — that “bloom”?
Then — skip — the frost — upon the lea –
And skip the Russet — on the tree –
Let’s play those — never come!

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To learn the Transport by the PainTo learn the Transport by the Pain
As Blind Men learn the sun!
To die of thirst — suspecting
That Brooks in Meadows run!

To stay the homesick — homesick feet
Upon a foreign shore –
Haunted by native lands, the while –
And blue — beloved air!

This is the Sovereign Anguish!
This — the signal woe!
These are the patient “Laureates”
Whose voices — trained — below –

Ascend in ceaseless Carol –
Inaudible, indeed,
To us — the duller scholars
Of the Mysterious Bard!

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The Sun kept stooping -- stooping -- low!The Sun kept stooping — stooping — low!
The Hills to meet him rose!
On his side, what Transaction!
On their side, what Repose!

Deeper and deeper grew the stain
Upon the window pane –
Thicker and thicker stood the feet
Until the Tyrian

Was crowded dense with Armies –
So gay, so Brigadier –
That I felt martial stirrings
Who once the Cockade wore –

Charged from my chimney corner –
But Nobody was there!

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