To know just how he suffered would be dear;To know if any human eyes were nearTo whom he could intrust his wavering gaze,Until it settled firm on Paradise. To know if he was patient, part content,Was dying as he thought, or different;Was it a pleasant day to die,And did the sunshine face his way? What […]

The last night that she lived,It was a common night,Except the dying; this to usMade nature different. We noticed smallest things, —Things overlooked before,By this great light upon our mindsItalicized, as ‘t were. That others could existWhile she must finish quite,A jealousy for her aroseSo nearly infinite. We waited while she passed;It was a narrow […]

God permits industrious angelsAfternoons to play.I met one, — forgot my school-mates,All, for him, straightway. God calls home the angels promptlyAt the setting sun;I missed mine. How dreary marbles,After playing Crown!

I never saw a moor,I never saw the sea;Yet know I how the heather looks,And what a wave must be. I never spoke with God,Nor visited in heaven;Yet certain am I of the spotAs if the chart were given.

The clouds their backs together laid,The north begun to push,The forests galloped till they fell,The lightning skipped like mice;The thunder crumbled like a stuff —How good to be safe in tombs,Where nature’s temper cannot reach,Nor vengeance ever comes!

I’ve seen a dying eyeRun round and round a roomIn search of something, as it seemed,Then cloudier become;And then, obscure with fog,And then be soldered down,Without disclosing what it be,‘T were blessed to have seen.

Alter? When the hills do.Falter? When the sunQuestion if his gloryBe the perfect one. Surfeit? When the daffodilDoth of the dew:Even as herself, O friend!I will of you!

I went to thank her,But she slept;Her bed a funnelled stone,With nosegays at the head and foot,That travellers had thrown, Who went to thank her;But she slept.‘T was short to cross the seaTo look upon her like, alive,But turning back ‘t was slow.

You left me, sweet, two legacies, —A legacy of loveA Heavenly Father would content,Had He the offer of; You left me boundaries of painCapacious as the sea,Between eternity and time,Your consciousness and me.

I reason, earth is short,And anguish absolute,And many hurt;But what of that? I reason, we could die:The best vitalityCannot excel decay;But what of that? I reason that in heavenSomehow, it will be even,Some new equation given;But what of that?

Mine by the right of the white election!Mine by the royal seal!Mine by the sign in the scarlet prisonBars cannot conceal! Mine, here in vision and in veto!Mine, by the grave’s repealTitled, confirmed, — delirious charter!Mine, while the ages steal!

The bustle in a houseThe morning after deathIs solemnest of industriesEnacted upon earth, — The sweeping up the heart,And putting love awayWe shall not want to use againUntil eternity.

Not in this world to see his faceSounds long, until I read the placeWhere this is said to beBut just the primer to a lifeUnopened, rare, upon the shelf,Clasped yet to him and me. And yet, my primer suits me soI would not choose a book to knowThan that, be sweeter wise;Might some one else […]

I’m wife; I’ve finished that,That other state;I’m Czar, I’m woman now:It’s safer so. How odd the girl’s life looksBehind this soft eclipse!I think that earth seems soTo those in heaven now. This being comfort, thenThat other kind was pain;But why compare?I’m wife! stop there!

Come slowly, Eden!Lips unused to thee,Bashful, sip thy jasmines,As the fainting bee, Reaching late his flower,Round her chamber hums,Counts his nectars — enters,And is lost in balms!

The sun kept setting, setting still;No hue of afternoonUpon the village I perceived, —From house to house ‘t was noon. The dusk kept dropping, dropping still;No dew upon the grass,But only on my forehead stopped,And wandered in my face. My feet kept drowsing, drowsing still,My fingers were awake;Yet why so little sound myselfUnto my seeming […]

Afraid? Of whom am I afraid?Not death; for who is he?The porter of my father’s lodgeAs much abasheth me. Of life? ‘T were odd I fear a thingThat comprehendeth meIn one or more existencesAt Deity’s decree. Of resurrection? Is the eastAfraid to trust the mornWith her fastidious forehead?As soon impeach my crown!

When I was small, a woman died.To-day her only boyWent up from the Potomac,His face all victory, To look at her; how slowlyThe seasons must have turnedTill bullets clipt an angle,And he passed quickly round! If pride shall be in ParadiseI never can decide;Of their imperial conduct,No person testified. But proud in apparition,That woman and […]

It was too late for man,But early yet for God;Creation impotent to help,But prayer remained our side. How excellent the heaven,When earth cannot be had;How hospitable, then, the faceOf our old neighbor, God!

Death is a dialogue betweenThe spirit and the dust.“Dissolve,” says Death. The Spirit, “Sir,I have another trust.” Death doubts it, argues from the ground.The Spirit turns away,Just laying off, for evidence,An overcoat of clay.