Tag Archives: thought

It don’t sound so terrible — quite — as it did –

It don't sound so terrible -- quite -- as it did --It don’t sound so terrible — quite — as it did –
I run it over — “Dead”, Brain, “Dead.”
Put it in Latin — left of my school –
Seems it don’t shriek so — under rule.

Turn it, a little — full in the face
A Trouble looks bitterest –
Shift it — just –
Say “When Tomorrow comes this way –
I shall have waded down one Day.”

I suppose it will interrupt me some
Till I get accustomed — but then the Tomb
Like other new Things — shows largest — then –
And smaller, by Habit –

It’s shrewder then
Put the Thought in advance — a Year –
How like “a fit” — then –
Murder — wear!

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A precious — mouldering pleasure — ’tis –

A precious -- mouldering pleasure -- 'tis --A precious — mouldering pleasure — ’tis –
To meet an Antique Book –
In just the Dress his Century wore –
A privilege — I think –

His venerable Hand to take –
And warming in our own –
A passage back — or two — to make –
To Times when he — was young –

His quaint opinions — to inspect –
His thought to ascertain
On Themes concern our mutual mind –
The Literature of Man –

What interested Scholars — most –
What Competitions ran –
When Plato — was a Certainty –
And Sophocles — a Man –

When Sappho — was a living Girl –
And Beatrice wore
The Gown that Dante — deified –
Facts Centuries before

He traverses — familiar –
As One should come to Town –
And tell you all your Dreams — were true –
He lived — where Dreams were born –

His presence is Enchantment –
You beg him not to go –
Old Volume shake their Vellum Heads
And tantalize — just so –

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I had the Glory — that will do –

I had the Glory -- that will do --I had the Glory — that will do –
An Honor, Thought can turn her to
When lesser Fames invite –
With one long “Nay” –
Bliss’ early shape
Deforming — Dwindling — Gulfing up –
Time’s possibility.

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There came a Day at Summer’s full

There came a Day at Summer's fullThere came a Day at Summer’s full,
Entirely for me –
I thought that such were for the Saints,
Where Resurrections — be –

The Sun, as common, went abroad,
The flowers, accustomed, blew,
As if no soul the solstice passed
That maketh all things new –

The time was scarce profaned, by speech –
The symbol of a word
Was needless, as at Sacrament,
The Wardrobe — of our Lord –

Each was to each The Sealed Church,
Permitted to commune this — time –
Lest we too awkward show
At Supper of the Lamb.

The Hours slid fast — as Hours will,
Clutched tight, by greedy hands –
So faces on two Decks, look back,
Bound to opposing lands –

And so when all the time had leaked,
Without external sound
Each bound the Other’s Crucifix –
We gave no other Bond –

Sufficient troth, that we shall rise –
Deposed — at length, the Grave –
To that new Marriage,
Justified — through Calvaries of Love –

That after Horror — that ’twas us –

That after Horror -- that 'twas us --That after Horror — that ’twas us –
That passed the mouldering Pier –
Just as the Granite Crumb let go –
Our Savior, by a Hair –

A second more, had dropped too deep
For Fisherman to plumb –
The very profile of the Thought
Puts Recollection numb –

The possibility — to pass
Without a Moment’s Bell –
Into Conjecture’s presence –
Is like a Face of Steel –
That suddenly looks into ours
With a metallic grin –
The Cordiality of Death –
Who drills his Welcome in –

RETROSPECT.

RETROSPECT. ‘T was just this time last year I died.
I know I heard the corn,
When I was carried by the farms, –
It had the tassels on.

I thought how yellow it would look
When Richard went to mill;
And then I wanted to get out,
But something held my will.

I thought just how red apples wedged
The stubble’s joints between;
And carts went stooping round the fields
To take the pumpkins in.

I wondered which would miss me least,
And when Thanksgiving came,
If father’d multiply the plates
To make an even sum.

And if my stocking hung too high,
Would it blur the Christmas glee,
That not a Santa Claus could reach
The altitude of me?

But this sort grieved myself, and so
I thought how it would be
When just this time, some perfect year,
Themselves should come to me.