Poems: Third Series | Page 8

a play,
Or a glee among
the garrets,
Or a holiday,
Or a leaving home; or later,
Parting with a world
We have
understood, for better
Still it be unfurled.
VI.
The stimulus, beyond the grave
His countenance to see,
Supports
me like imperial drams
Afforded royally.
VII.

Given in marriage unto thee,
Oh, thou celestial host!
Bride of the
Father and the Son,
Bride of the Holy Ghost!
Other betrothal shall dissolve,
Wedlock of will decay;
Only the
keeper of this seal
Conquers mortality.
VIII.
That such have died enables us
The tranquiller to die;
That such
have lived, certificate
For immortality.
IX.
They won't frown always, -- some sweet day
When I forget to tease,

They'll recollect how cold I looked,
And how I just said 'please.'
Then they will hasten to the door
To call the little child,
Who
cannot thank them, for the ice
That on her lisping piled.
X.
IMMORTALITY.
It is an honorable thought,
And makes one lift one's hat,
As one
encountered gentlefolk
Upon a daily street,
That we've immortal place,
Though pyramids decay,
And kingdoms,
like the orchard,
Flit russetly away.
XI.
The distance that the dead have gone
Does not at first appear;
Their
coming back seems possible
For many an ardent year.
And then, that we have followed them
We more than half suspect,

So intimate have we become
With their dear retrospect.

XII.
How dare the robins sing,
When men and women hear
Who since
they went to their account
Have settled with the year! --
Paid all
that life had earned
In one consummate bill,
And now, what life or
death can do
Is immaterial.
Insulting is the sun
To him whose
mortal light,
Beguiled of immortality,
Bequeaths him to the night.

In deference to him
Extinct be every hum,
Whose garden
wrestles with the dew,
At daybreak overcome!
XIII.
DEATH.
Death is like the insect
Menacing the tree,
Competent to kill it,

But decoyed may be.
Bait it with the balsam,
Seek it with the knife,
Baffle, if it cost you

Everything in life.
Then, if it have burrowed
Out of reach of skill,
Ring the tree and
leave it, --
'T is the vermin's will.
XIV.
UNWARNED.
'T is sunrise, little maid, hast thou
No station in the day?
'T was not
thy wont to hinder so, --
Retrieve thine industry.
'T is noon, my little maid, alas!
And art thou sleeping yet?
The lily
waiting to be wed,
The bee, dost thou forget?
My little maid, 't is night; alas,
That night should be to thee
Instead
of morning! Hadst thou broached
Thy little plan to me,
Dissuade
thee if I could not, sweet,
I might have aided thee.

XV.
Each that we lose takes part of us;
A crescent still abides,
Which
like the moon, some turbid night,
Is summoned by the tides.
XVI.
Not any higher stands the grave
For heroes than for men;
Not any
nearer for the child
Than numb three-score and ten.
This latest leisure equal lulls
The beggar and his queen;
Propitiate
this democrat
By summer's gracious mien.
XVII.
ASLEEP.
As far from pity as complaint,
As cool to speech as stone,
As numb
to revelation
As if my trade were bone.
As far from time as history,
As near yourself to-day
As children to
the rainbow's scarf,
Or sunset's yellow play
To eyelids in the sepulchre.
How still the dancer lies,
While color's
revelations break,
And blaze the butterflies!
XVIII.
THE SPIRIT.
'T is whiter than an Indian pipe,
'T is dimmer than a lace;
No stature
has it, like a fog,
When you approach the place.
Not any voice denotes it here,
Or intimates it there;
A spirit, how
doth it accost?
What customs hath the air?
This limitless hyperbole
Each one of us shall be;
'T is drama, if

(hypothesis)
It be not tragedy!
XIX.
THE MONUMENT.
She laid her docile crescent down,
And this mechanic stone
Still
states, to dates that have forgot,
The news that she is gone.
So constant to its stolid trust,
The shaft that never knew,
It shames
the constancy that fled
Before its emblem flew.
XX.
Bless God, he went as soldiers,
His musket on his breast;
Grant,
God, he charge the bravest
Of all the martial blest.
Please God, might I behold him
In epauletted white,
I should not
fear the foe then,
I should not fear the fight.
XXI.
Immortal is an ample word
When what we need is by,
But when it
leaves us for a time,
'T is a necessity.
Of heaven above the firmest proof
We fundamental know,
Except
for its marauding hand,
It had been heaven below.
XXII.
Where every bird is bold to go,
And bees abashless play,
The
foreigner before he knocks
Must thrust the tears away.
XXIII.
The grave my little cottage is,
Where, keeping house for thee,
I
make my parlor orderly,
And lay the marble tea,

For two divided, briefly,
A cycle, it may be,
Till everlasting life
unite
In strong society.
XXIV.
This was in the white of the year,
That was in the green,
Drifts were
as difficult then to think
As daisies now to be seen.
Looking back is best that is left,
Or if it be before,
Retrospection is
prospect's half,
Sometimes almost more.
XXV.
Sweet hours have perished here;
This is a mighty room;
Within its
precincts hopes have played, --
Now shadows in the tomb.
XXVI.
Me! Come! My dazzled face
In such a shining place!
Me! Hear! My foreign ear
The sounds of welcome near!
The saints shall meet
Our bashful feet.
My