tell

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Before I got my eye put outBefore I got my eye put out
I liked as well to see –
As other Creatures, that have Eyes
And know no other way –

But were it told to me — Today –
That I might have the sky
For mine — I tell you that my Heart
Would split, for size of me –

The Meadows — mine –
The Mountains — mine –
All Forests — Stintless Stars –
As much of Noon as I could take
Between my finite eyes –

The Motions of the Dipping Birds –
The Morning’s Amber Road –
For mine — to look at when I liked –
The News would strike me dead –

So safer — guess — with just my soul
Upon the Window pane –
Where other Creatures put their eyes –
Incautious — of the Sun –

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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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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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I can't tell you -- but you feel it --I can’t tell you — but you feel it –
Nor can you tell me –
Saints, with ravished slate and pencil
Solve our April Day!

Sweeter than a vanished frolic
From a vanished green!
Swifter than the hoofs of Horsemen
Round a Ledge of dream!

Modest, let us walk among it
With our faces veiled –
As they say polite Archangels
Do in meeting God!

Not for me — to prate about it!
Not for you — to say
To some fashionable Lady
“Charming April Day”!

Rather — Heaven’s “Peter Parley”!
By which Children slow
To sublimer Recitation
Are prepared to go!

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The Skies can't keep their secret!-The Skies can’t keep their secret!
They tell it to the Hills –
The Hills just tell the Orchards –
And they — the Daffodils!

A Bird — by chance — that goes that way –
Soft overhears the whole –
If I should bribe the little Bird –
Who knows but she would tell?

I think I won’t — however –
It’s finer — not to know –
If Summer were an Axiom –
What sorcery had Snow?

So keep your secret — Father!
I would not — if I could,
Know what the Sapphire Fellows, do,
In your new-fashioned world!

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I have never seen I have never seen “Volcanoes” –
But, when Travellers tell
How those old — phlegmatic mountains
Usually so still –

Bear within — appalling Ordnance,
Fire, and smoke, and gun,
Taking Villages for breakfast,
And appalling Men –

If the stillness is Volcanic
In the human face
When upon a pain Titanic
Features keep their place –

If at length the smouldering anguish
Will not overcome –
And the palpitating Vineyard
In the dust, be thrown?

If some loving Antiquary,
On Resumption Morn,
Will not cry with joy “Pompeii”!
To the Hills return!

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