skip to Main Content

1. A something in a summer’s Day

A something in a summer’s Day
As slow her flambeaux burn away
Which solemnizes me.

A something in a summer’s noon –
A depth – an Azure – a perfume –
Transcending ecstasy.

And still within a summer’s night
A something so transporting bright
I clap my hands to see –

Then veil my too inspecting face
Lest such a subtle – shimmering grace
Flutter too far for me –

The wizard fingers never rest –
The purple brook within the breast
Still chafes it’s narrow bed –

Still rears the East her amber Flag –
Guides still the sun along the Crag
His Caravan of Red –

So looking on – the night – the morn
Conclude the wonder gay –
And I meet, coming thro’ the dews
Another summer’s Day!

2. Alone

Alone, I cannot be –
The Hosts – do visit me –
Recordless Company –
Who baffle Key –

They have no Robes, nor Names –
No Almanacs – nor Climes –
But general Homes
Like Gnomes –

Their Coming, may be known
By Couriers within –
Their going – is not –
For they’re never gone –

3. North America

I’ve known a Heaven, like a Tent –
To wrap it’s shining Yards –
Pluck up it’s stakes, and disappear –
Without the sound of Boards
Or Rip of Nail – Or Carpenter –
But just the miles of Stare –
That signalize a Show’s Retreat –
In North America –

No Trace – no Figment of the Thing
That dazzled, Yesterday,
No Ring – no Marvel –
Men, and Feats –
Dissolved as utterly –
As Bird’s far Navigation
Discloses just a Hue –
A plash of Oars, a Gaiety –
Then swallowed up, of View.

4. To the Ecstasy

For each ecstatic instant
We must an anguish pay
In keen and quivering ratio
To the ecstasy –

For each beloved hour
Sharp pittances of Years –
Bitter contested farthings –
And Coffers heaped with tears!

5. The Proudest Trees

It’s like the Light –
A fashionless Delight –
It’s like the Bee –
A dateless – Melody –

It’s like the Woods –
Private – Like the Breeze –
Phraseless – yet it stirs
The proudest Trees –

It’s like the Morning –
Best – when it’s done –
And the Everlasting Clocks –
Chime – Noon!

6. Happy Air

Air has no Residence, no Neighbor,
No Ear, no Door,
No Apprehension of Another
Oh, Happy Air!

Etherial Guest at e’en an Outcast’s Pillow –
Essential Host, in Life’s faint, wailing Inn,
Later than Light thy Consciousness accost Me
Till it depart, persuading Mine –

7. If True

As Watchers hang upon the East –
As Beggars revel at a feast
By savory fancy spread –
As Brooks in Deserts, babble sweet
On Ear too far for the delight –
Heaven beguiles the tired.

As that same Watcher, when the East
Opens the lid of Amethyst
And lets the morning go –
That Beggar, when an honored Guest –
Those thirsty lips to flagons pressed –
Heaven to us, if true.

8. Between My Finite Eyes

Before 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 Lightning’s jointed 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 –

9. S I L E N T

So has a Daisy vanished
From the fields today –
So tiptoed many a slipper
To Paradise away –
Oozed so, in crimson bubbles
Day’s departing tide –
Blooming – tripping – flowing –
Are ye then with God?


No brimming Tankards flow —
Necromancer! Landlord!
Who are these below?

10. Mystic Green

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 –
Announcing me in other dells –
Unto the different dawn!

11. What Inn is This

What Inn is this
Where for the night
Peculiar Traveller comes?
Who is the Landlord?
Where the maids?
Behold, what curious rooms!
No ruddy fires on the hearth —
No brimming Tankards flow —
Necromancer! Landlord!
Who are these below?

Our share of night to bear,
Our share of morning,
Our blank in bliss to fill,
Our blank in scorning.

Here a star, and there a star,
Some lose their way.
Here a mist, and there a mist,