Tag Archives: year

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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Answer July –

Answer July --Answer July —
Where is the Bee —
Where is the Blush —
Where is the Hay?

Ah, said July —
Where is the Seed —
Where is the Bud —
Where is the May —
Answer Thee — Me —

Nay — said the May —
Show me the Snow —
Show me the Bells —
Show me the Jay!

Quibbled the Jay —
Where be the Maize —
Where be the Haze —
Where be the Bur?
Here — said the Year –

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It will be Summer — eventually.

It will be Summer -- eventually.It will be Summer — eventually.
Ladies — with parasols —
Sauntering Gentlemen — with Canes —
And little Girls — with Dolls —

Will tint the pallid landscape —
As ’twere a bright Bouquet —
Thro’ drifted deep, in Parian —
The Village lies — today —

The Lilacs — bending many a year —
Will sway with purple load —
The Bees — will not despise the tune —
Their Forefathers — have hummed —

The Wild Rose — redden in the Bog —
The Aster — on the Hill
Her everlasting fashion — set —
And Covenant Gentians — frill —

Till Summer folds her miracle —
As Women — do — their Gown —
Of Priests — adjust the Symbols —
When Sacrament — is done –

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Went up a year this evening!

Went up a year this evening!Went up a year this evening!
I recollect it well!
Amid no bells nor bravoes
The bystanders will tell!
Cheerful — as to the village —
Tranquil — as to repose —
Chastened — as to the Chapel
This humble Tourist rose!
Did not talk of returning!
Alluded to no time
When, were the gales propitious —
We might look for him!
Was grateful for the Roses
In life’s diverse bouquet —
Talked softly of new species
To pick another day;
Beguiling thus the wonder
The wondrous nearer drew —
Hands bustled at the moorings —
The crown respectful grew —
Ascended from our vision
To Countenances new!
A Difference — A Daisy —
Is all the rest I knew!

There is a morn by men unseen –

There is a morn by men unseen --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!

One Sister have I in our house

One Sister have I in our houseOne 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!

The feet of people walking home

The feet of people walking homeThe feet of people walking home
With gayer sandals go —
The Crocus — til she rises
The Vassal of the snow —
The lips at Hallelujah
Long years of practise bore
Til bye and bye these Bargemen
Walked singing on the shore.

Pearls are the Diver’s farthings
Extorted from the Sea —
Pinions — the Seraph’s wagon
Pedestrian once — as we —
Night is the morning’s Canvas
Larceny — legacy —
Death, but our rapt attention
To Immortality.

My figures fail to tell me
How far the Village lies —
Whose peasants are the Angels —
Whose Cantons dot the skies —
My Classics veil their faces —
My faith that Dark adores —
Which from its solemn abbeys
Such ressurection pours.