Life








This is my letter to the world,

That never wrote to me,—

The simple news that Nature told,

With tender majesty.

Her message is committed

To hands I cannot see;

For love of her, sweet countrymen,

Judge tenderly of me!








I

Success is counted sweetest

By those who ne’er succeed.

To comprehend a nectar

Requires sorest need.

Not one of all the purple host

Who took the flag to-day

Can tell the definition,

So clear, of victory,

As he, defeated, dying,

On whose forbidden ear

The distant strains of triumph

Break, agonized and clear.

II

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,

Afterwards—day!

III

Soul, wilt thou toss again?

By just such a hazard

Hundreds have lost, indeed,

But tens have won an all.

Angels’ breathless ballot

Lingers to record thee;

Imps in eager caucus

Raffle for my soul.

IV

’T is so much joy! ’T is so much joy!

If I should fail, what poverty!

And yet, as poor as I

Have ventured all upon a throw;

Have gained! Yes! Hesitated so

This side the victory!

Life is but life, and death but death!

Bliss is but bliss, and breath but breath!

And if, indeed, I fail,

At least to know the worst is sweet.

Defeat means nothing but defeat,

No drearier can prevail!

And if I gain,—oh, gun at sea,

Oh, bells that in the steeples be,

At first repeat it slow!

For heaven is a different thing

Conjectured, and waked sudden in,

And might o’erwhelm me so!

V

Glee! the great storm is over!

Four have recovered the land;

Forty gone down together

Into the boiling sand.

Ring, for the scant salvation!

Toll, for the bonnie souls,—

Neighbor and friend and bridegroom,

Spinning upon the shoals!

How they will tell the shipwreck

When winter shakes the door,

Till the children ask, “But the forty?

Did they come back no more?”

Then a silence suffuses the story,

And a softness the teller’s eye;

And the children no further question,

And only the waves reply.

VI

If I can stop one heart from breaking,

I shall not live in vain;

If I can ease one life the aching,

Or cool one pain,

Or help one fainting robin

Unto his nest again,

I shall not live in vain.

VII

Within my reach!

I could have touched!

I might have chanced that way!

Soft sauntered through the village,

Sauntered as soft away!

So unsuspected violets

Within the fields lie low,

Too late for striving fingers

That passed, an hour ago.

VIII

A wounded deer leaps highest,

I’ve heard the hunter tell;

’T is but the ecstasy of death,

And then the brake is still.

The smitten rock that gushes,

The trampled steel that springs:

A cheek is always redder
Just where the hectic stings!

Mirth is the mail of anguish,

In which it caution arm,

Lest anybody spy the blood

And “You’re hurt” exclaim!

IX

The heart asks pleasure first,

And then, excuse from pain;

And then, those little anodynes

That deaden suffering;

And then, to go to sleep;

And then, if it should be

The will of its Inquisitor,

The liberty to die.

X

A precious, mouldering pleasure’t is

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 knowledge to unfold

On what concerns our mutual mind,

The literature of old;

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 volumes shake their vellum heads

And tantalize, just so.

XI

Much madness is divinest sense

To a discerning eye;

Much sense the starkest madness.

’T is the majority

In this, as all, prevails.

Assent, and you are sane;

Demur,—you’re straightway dangerous,

And handled with a chain.

XII

I asked no other thing,

No other was denied.

I offered Being for it;

The mighty merchant smiled.

Brazil? He twirled a button,

Without a glance my way:

“But, madam, is there nothing else

That we can show to-day?”

XIII

The soul selects her own society,

Then shuts the door;

On her divine majority

Obtrude no more.

Unmoved, she notes the chariot’s pausing

At her low gate;

Unmoved, an emperor is kneeling

Upon her mat.

I’ve known her from an ample nation

Choose one;

Then close the valves of her attention

Like stone.

XIV

Some things that fly there be,—

Birds, hours, the bumble-bee:

Of these no elegy.

Some things that stay there be,—

Grief, hills, eternity:

Nor this behooveth me.

There are, that resting, rise.

Can I expound the skies?

How still the riddle lies!

XV

I know some lonely houses off the road

A robber ’d like the look of,—

Wooden barred,

And windows hanging low,

Inviting to

A portico,

Where two could creep:

One hand the tools,

The other peep

To make sure all ’s asleep.

Old-fashioned eyes,

Not easy to surprise!

How orderly the kitchen’d look by night,

With just a clock,—

But they could gag the tick,

And mice won’t bark;

And so the walls don’t tell,

None will.

A pair of spectacles ajar just stir—

An almanac’s aware.

Was it the mat winked,

Or a nervous star?

The moon slides down the stair

To see who’s there.

There’s plunder,—where?

Tankard, or spoon,

Earring, or stone,

A watch, some ancient brooch

To match the grandmamma,

Staid sleeping there.

Day rattles, too,

Stealth’s slow;

The sun has got as far

As the third sycamore.

Screams chanticleer,

“Who’s there?”

And echoes, trains away,

Sneer—“Where?”

While the old couple, just astir,

Think that the sunrise left the door ajar!

XVI

To fight aloud is very brave,

But gallanter, I know,

Who charge within the bosom,

The cavalry of woe.

Who win, and nations do not see,

Who fall, and none observe,

Whose dying eyes no country

Regards with patriot love.

We trust, in plumed procession,

For such the angels go,

Rank after rank, with even feet

And uniforms of snow.

XVII

When night is almost done,

And sunrise grows so near

That we can touch the spaces,

It’s time to smooth the hair

And get the dimples ready,

And wonder we could care

For that old faded midnight

That frightened but an hour.

XVIII

Read, sweet, how others strove,

Till we are stouter;

What they renounced,

Till we are less afraid;

How many times they bore

The faithful witness,

Till we are helped,

As if a kingdom cared!

Read then of faith

That shone above the fagot;

Clear strains of hymn

The river could not drown;

Brave names of men

And celestial women,

Passed out of record

Into renown!

XIX

Pain has an element of blank;

It cannot recollect

When it began, or if there were

A day when it was not.

It has no future but itself,

Its infinite realms contain

Its past, enlightened to perceive

New periods of pain.

XX

I taste a liquor never brewed,

From tankards scooped in pearl;

Not all the vats upon the Rhine

Yield such an alcohol!

Inebriate of air am I,

And debauchee of dew,

Reeling, through endless summer days,

From inns of molten blue.

When landlords turn the drunken bee

Out of the foxglove’s door,

When butterflies renounce their drams,

I shall but drink the more!

Till seraphs swing their snowy hats,

And saints to windows run,

To see the little tippler

Leaning against the sun!

XXI

He ate and drank the precious words,

His spirit grew robust;

He knew no more that he was poor,

Nor that his frame was dust.

He danced along the dingy days,

And this bequest of wings

Was but a book. What liberty

A loosened spirit brings!

XXII

I had no time to hate, because

The grave would hinder me,

And life was not so ample I

Could finish enmity.

Nor had I time to love; but since

Some industry must be,

The little toil of love, I thought,

Was large enough for me.

XXIII

’T was such a little, little boat

That toddled down the bay!

’T was such a gallant, gallant sea

That beckoned it away!

’T was such a greedy, greedy wave

That licked it from the coast;

Nor ever guessed the stately sails

My little craft was lost!

XXIV

Whether my bark went down at sea,

Whether she met with gales,

Whether to isles enchanted

She bent her docile sails;

By what mystic mooring

She is held to-day,—

This is the errand of the eye

Out upon the bay.

XXV

Belshazzar had a letter,—

He never had but one;

Belshazzar’s correspondent

Concluded and begun

In that immortal copy

The conscience of us all

Can read without its glasses

On revelation’s wall.

XXVI

The brain within its groove

Runs evenly and true;

But let a splinter swerve,

’T were easier for you

To put the water back

When floods have slit the hills,

And scooped a turnpike for themselves,

And blotted out the mills!

XXVII

I’m nobody! Who are you?

Are you nobody, too?

Then there’s a pair of us—don’t tell!

They’d banish us, you know.

How dreary to be somebody!

How public, like a frog

To tell your name the livelong day

To an admiring bog!

XXVIII

I bring an unaccustomed wine

To lips long parching, next to mine,

And summon them to drink.

Crackling with fever, they essay;

I turn my brimming eyes away,

And come next hour to look.

The hands still hug the tardy glass;

The lips I would have cooled, alas!

Are so superfluous cold,

I would as soon attempt to warm

The bosoms where the frost has lain

Ages beneath the mould.

Some other thirsty there may be

To whom this would have pointed me

Had it remained to speak.

And so I always bear the cup

If, haply, mine may be the drop

Some pilgrim thirst to slake,—

If, haply, any say to me,

“Unto the little, unto me,”

When I at last awake.

XXIX

The nearest dream recedes, unrealized.

The heaven we chase

Like the June bee

Before the school-boy

Invites the race;

Stoops to an easy clover—

Dipe—evades—teases—deploys;

Then to the royal clouds

Lifts his light pinnace

Heedless of the boy

Staring, bewildered, at the mocking sky.

Homesick for steadfast honey,

Ah! the bee flies not

That brews that rare variety.

XXX

We play at paste,

Till qualified for pearl,

Then drop the paste,

And deem ourself a fool.

The shapes, though, were similar,

And our new hands

Learned gem-tactics

Practising sands.

XXXI

I found the phrase to every thought

I ever had, but one;

And that defies me,—as a hand

Did try to chalk the sun

To races nurtured in the dark;—

How would your own begin?

Can blaze be done in cochineal,

Or noon in mazarin?

XXXII

Hope is the thing with feathers

That perches in the soul,

And sings the tune without the words,

And never stops at all,

And sweetest in the gale is heard;

And sore must be the storm

That could abash the little bird

That kept so many warm.

I’ve heard it in the chillest land,

And on the strangest sea;

Yet, never, in extremity,

It asked a crumb of me.

XXXIII

Dare you see a soul at the white heat?

Then crouch within the door.

Red is the fire’s common tint;

But when the vivid ore

Has sated flame’s conditions,

Its quivering substance plays

Without a color but the light

Of unanointed blaze.

Least village boasts its blacksmith,

Whose anvil’s even din

Stands symbol for the finer forge

That soundless tugs within,

Refining these impatient ores

With hammer and with blaze,

Until the designated light

Repudiate the forge.

XXXIV

Who never lost, are unprepared

A coronet to find;

Who never thirsted, flagons

And cooling tamarind.

Who never climbed the weary league—

Can such a foot explore

The purple territories

On Pizarro’s shore?

How many legions overcome?

The emperor will say.

How many colors taken

On Revolution Day?

How many bullets bearest?

The royal scar hast thou?

Angels, write “Promoted”

On this soldier’s brow!

XXXV

I can wade grief,

Whole pools of it,—

I’m used to that.

But the least push of joy

Breaks up my feet,

And I tip—drunken.

Let no pebble smile,

’T was the new liquor,—

That was all!

Power is only pain,

Stranded, through discipline,

Till weights will hang.

Give balm to giants,

And they’ll wilt, like men.

Give Himmaleh,—

They’ll carry him!

XXXVI

I never hear the word “escape”

Without a quicker blood,

A sudden expectation,

A flying attitude.

I never hear of prisons broad

By soldiers battered down,

But I tug childish at my bars,—

Only to fail again!

XXXVII

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.

XXXVIII

Through the straight pass of suffering

The martyrs even trod,

Their feet upon temptation,

Their faces upon God.

A stately, shriven company;

Convulsion playing round,

Harmless as streaks of meteor

Upon a planet’s bound.

Their faith the everlasting troth;

Their expectation fair;

The needle to the north degree

Wades so, through polar air.

XXXIX

I meant to have but modest needs,

Such as content, and heaven;

Within my income these could lie,

And life and I keep even.

But since the last included both,

It would suffice my prayer

But just for one to stipulate,

And grace would grant the pair.

And so, upon this wise I prayed,—

Great Spirit, give to me

A heaven not so large as yours,

But large enough for me.

A smile suffused Jehovah’s face;

The cherubim withdrew;

Grave saints stole out to look at me,

And showed their dimples, too.

I left the place with all my might,—

My prayer away I threw;

The quiet ages picked it up,

And Judgment twinkled, too,

That one so honest be extant

As take the tale for true

That “Whatsoever you shall ask,

Itself be given you.”

But I, grown shrewder, scan the skies

With a suspicious air,—

As children, swindled for the first,

All swindlers be, infer.

XL

The thought beneath so slight a film

Is more distinctly seen,—

As laces just reveal the surge,

Or mists the Apennine.

XLI

The soul unto itself

Is an imperial friend,—

Or the most agonizing spy

An enemy could send.

Secure against its own,

No treason it can fear;

Itself its sovereign, of itself

The soul should stand in awe.

XLII

Surgeons must be very careful

When they take the knife!

Underneath their fine incisions

Stirs the culprit,—Life!

XLIII

I like to see it lap the miles,

And lick the valleys up,

And stop to feed itself at tanks;

And then, prodigious, step

Around a pile of mountains,

And, supercilious, peer

In shanties by the sides of roads;

And then a quarry pare

To fit its sides, and crawl between,

Complaining all the while

In horrid, hooting stanza;

Then chase itself down hill

And neigh like Boanerges;

Then, punctual as a star,

Stop—docile and omnipotent—

At its own stable door.

XLIV

The show is not the show,

But they that go.

Menagerie to me

My neighbor be.

Fair play—

Both went to see.

XLV

Delight becomes pictorial

When viewed through pain,—

More fair, because impossible

That any gain.

The mountain at a given distance

In amber lies;
Approached, the amber flits a little,—

And that’s the skies!

XLVI

A thought went up my mind to-day

That I have had before,

But did not finish,—some way back,

I could not fix the year,

Nor where it went, nor why it came

The second time to me,

Nor definitely what it was,

Have I the art to say.

But somewhere in my soul, I know

I’ve met the thing before;

It just reminded me—’t was all—

And came my way no more.

XLVII

Is Heaven a physician?

They say that He can heal;

But medicine posthumous

Is unavailable.

Is Heaven an exchequer?

They speak of what we owe;

But that negotiation

I’m not a party to.

XLVIII

Though I get home how late, how late!

So I get home, ’t will compensate.

Better will be the ecstasy

That they have done expecting me,

When, night descending, dumb and dark,

They hear my unexpected knock.

Transporting must the moment be,

Brewed from decades of agony!

To think just how the fire will burn,

Just how long-cheated eyes will turn

To wonder what myself will say,

And what itself will say to me,

Beguiles the centuries of way!

XLIX

A poor torn heart, a tattered heart,

That sat it down to rest,

Nor noticed that the ebbing day

Flowed silver to the west,

Nor noticed night did soft descend

Nor constellation burn,

Intent upon the vision

Of latitudes unknown.

The angels, happening that way,

This dusty heart espied;

Tenderly took it up from toil

And carried it to God.

There,—sandals for the barefoot;

There,—gathered from the gales,

Do the blue havens by the hand

Lead the wandering sails.

L

I should have been too glad, I see,

Too lifted for the scant degree

Of life’s penurious round;

My little circuit would have shamed

This new circumference, have blamed

The homelier time behind.

I should have been too saved, I see,

Too rescued; fear too dim to me

That I could spell the prayer

I knew so perfect yesterday,—

That scalding one, “Sabachthani,”

Recited fluent here.

Earth would have been too much, I see,

And heaven not enough for me;

I should have had the joy

Without the fear to justify,—

The palm without the Calvary;

So, Saviour, crucify.

Defeat whets victory, they say;

The reefs in old Gethsemane

Endear the shore beyond.

’T is beggars banquets best define;

’T is thirsting vitalizes wine,—

Faith faints to understand.

LI

It tossed and tossed,—

A little brig I knew,—

O’ertook by blast,

It spun and spun,

And groped delirious, for morn.

It slipped and slipped,

As one that drunken stepped;

Its white foot tripped,

Then dropped from sight.

Ah, brig, good-night

To crew and you;

The ocean’s heart too smooth, too blue,

To break for you.

LII

Victory comes late,

And is held low to freezing lips

Too rapt with frost

To take it.

How sweet it would have tasted,

Just a drop!

Was God so economical?

His table’s spread too high for us

Unless we dine on tip-toe.

Crumbs fit such little mouths,

Cherries suit robins;

The eagle’s golden breakfast

Strangles them.

God keeps his oath to sparrows,

Who of little love

Know how to starve!

LIII

God gave a loaf to every bird,

But just a crumb to me;

I dare not eat it, though I starve,—

My poignant luxury

To own it, touch it, prove the feat

That made the pellet mine,—

Too happy in my sparrow chance

For ampler coveting.

It might be famine all around,

I could not miss an ear,

Such plenty smiles upon my board,

My garner shows so fair.

I wonder how the rich may feel,—

An Indiaman—an Earl?

I deem that I with but a crumb

Am sovereign of them all.

LIV

Experiment to me

Is every one I meet.

If it contain a kernel?

The figure of a nut

Presents upon a tree,

Equally plausibly;

But meat within is requisite,

To squirrels and to me.

LV

My country need not change her gown,

Her triple suit as sweet

As when ’t was cut at Lexington,

And first pronounced “a fit.”

Great Britain disapproves “the stars”;

Disparagement discreet,—

There’s something in their attitude

That taunts her bayonet.

LVI

Faith is a fine invention

For gentlemen who see;

But microscopes are prudent

In an emergency!

LVII

Except the heaven had come so near,

So seemed to choose my door,

The distance would not haunt me so;

I had not hoped before.

But just to hear the grace depart

I never thought to see,

Afflicts me with a double loss;

’T is lost, and lost to me.

LVIII

Portraits are to daily faces

As an evening west

To a fine, pedantic sunshine

In a satin vest.

LIX

I took my power in my hand

And went against the world;

’T was not so much as David had,

But I was twice as bold.

I aimed my pebble, but myself

Was all the one that fell.

Was it Goliath was too large,

Or only I too small?

LX

A shady friend for torrid days

Is easier to find

Than one of higher temperature

For frigid hour of mind.

The vane a little to the east

Scares muslin souls away;

If broadcloth breasts are firmer

Than those of organdy,

Who is to blame? The weaver?

Ah! the bewildering thread!

The tapestries of paradise

So notelessly are made!

LXI

Each life converges to some centre

Expressed or still;

Exists in every human nature

A goal,

Admitted scarcely to itself, it may be,

Too fair

For credibility’s temerity

To dare.

Adored with caution, as a brittle heaven,

To reach

Were hopeless as the rainbow’s raiment

To touch,

Yet persevered toward, surer for the distance;

How high

Unto the saints’ slow diligence

The sky!

Ungained, it may be, by a life’s low venture,

But then,

Eternity enables the endeavoring

Again.

LXII

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, to-day,

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.

LXIII

Talk with prudence to a beggar

Of “Potosi” and the mines!

Reverently to the hungry

Of your viands and your wines!

Cautious, hint to any captive

You have passed enfranchised feet!

Anecdotes of air in dungeons

Have sometimes proved deadly sweet!

LXIV

He preached upon “breadth” till it argued him narrow,—

The broad are too broad to define,

And of “truth” until it proclaimed him a liar,—

The truth never flaunted a sign.

Simplicity fled from his counterfeit presence

As gold the pyrites would shun.

What confusion would cover the innocent Jesus

To meet so enabled a man!

LXV

Good night! which put the candle out?

A jealous zephyr, not a doubt.

Ah! friend, you little knew

How long at that celestial wick

The angels labored diligent;

Extinguished, now, for you!

It might have been the lighthouse spark

Some sailor, rowing in the dark,

Had importuned to see!

It might have been the waning lamp

That lit the drummer from the camp

To purer reveille!

LXVI

When I hoped I feared,

Since I hoped I dared;

Everywhere alone

As a church remain;

Spectre cannot harm,

Serpent cannot charm;

He deposes doom,

Who hath suffered him.

LXVII

A deed knocks first at thought,

And then it knocks at will.

That is the manufacturing spot,

And will at home and well.

It then goes out an act,

Or is entombed so still

That only to the ear of God

Its doom is audible.

LXVIII

Mine enemy is growing old,—

I have at last revenge.

The palate of the hate departs;

If any would avenge,—

Let him be quick, the viand flits,

It is a faded meat.

Anger as soon as fed is dead;

’T is starving makes it fat.

LXIX

Remorse is memory awake,

Her companies astir,—

A presence of departed acts

At window and at door.

Its past set down before the soul,

And lighted with a match,

Perusal to facilitate

Of its condensed despatch.

Remorse is cureless,—the disease

Not even God can heal;

For ’t is His institution,—

The complement of hell.

LXX

The body grows outside,—

The more convenient way,—

That if the spirit like to hide,

Its temple stands alway

Ajar, secure, inviting;

It never did betray

The soul that asked its shelter

In timid honesty.

LXXI

Undue significance a starving man attaches

To food

Far off; he sighs, and therefore hopeless,

And therefore good.

Partaken, it relieves indeed, but proves us

That spices fly

In the receipt. It was the distance

Was savory.

LXXII

Heart not so heavy as mine,

Wending late home,

As it passed my window

Whistled itself a tune,—

A careless snatch, a ballad,

A ditty of the street;

Yet to my irritated ear

An anodyne so sweet,

It was as if a bobolink,

Sauntering this way,

Carolled and mused and carolled,

Then bubbled slow away.

It was as if a chirping brook

Upon a toilsome way

Set bleeding feet to minuets

Without the knowing why.

To-morrow, night will come again,

Weary, perhaps, and sore.

Ah, bugle, by my window,

I pray you stroll once more!

LXXIII

I many times thought peace had come,

When peace was far away;

As wrecked men deem they sight the land

At centre of the sea,

And struggle slacker, but to prove,

As hopelessly as I,

How many the fictitious shores

Before the harbor lie.

LXXIV

Unto my books so good to turn

Far ends of tired days;

It half endears the abstinence,

And pain is missed in praise.

As flavors cheer retarded guests

With banquetings to be,

So spices stimulate the time

Till my small library.

It may be wilderness without,

Far feet of failing men,

But holiday excludes the night,

And it is bells within.

I thank these kinsmen of the shelf;

Their countenances bland

Enamour in prospective,

And satisfy, obtained.

LXXV

This merit hath the worst,—

It cannot be again.

When Fate hath taunted last

And thrown her furthest stone,

The maimed may pause and breathe,

And glance securely round.

The deer invites no longer

Than it eludes the hound.

LXXVI

I had been hungry all the years;

My noon had come, to dine;

I, trembling, drew the table near,

And touched the curious wine.

’T was this on tables I had seen,

When turning, hungry, lone,

I looked in windows, for the wealth

I could not hope to own.

I did not know the ample bread,

’T was so unlike the crumb

The birds and I had often shared

In Nature’s dining-room.

The plenty hurt me, ’t was so new,—

Myself felt ill and odd,

As berry of a mountain bush

Transplanted to the road.

Nor was I hungry; so I found

That hunger was a way

Of persons outside windows,

The entering takes away.

LXXVII

I gained it so,

By climbing slow,

By catching at the twigs that grow

Between the bliss and me.

It hung so high,

As well the sky

Attempt by strategy.

I said I gained it,—

This was all.

Look, how I clutch it,

Lest it fall,

And I a pauper go;

Unfitted by an instant’s grace

For the contented beggar’s face

I wore an hour ago.

LXXVIII

To learn the transport by the pain,

As blind men learn the sun;

To die of thirst, suspecting

That brooks in meadows run;

To stay the homesick, homesick feet

Upon a foreign shore

Haunted by native lands, the while,

And blue, beloved air—

This is the sovereign anguish,

This, the signal woe!

These are the patient laureates

Whose voices, trained below,

Ascend in ceaseless carol,

Inaudible, indeed,

To us, the duller scholars

Of the mysterious bard!

LXXIX

I years had been from home,

And now, before the door,

I dared not open, lest a face

I never saw before

Stare vacant into mine

And ask my business there.

My business,—just a life I left,

Was such still dwelling there?

I fumbled at my nerve,

I scanned the windows near;

The silence like an ocean rolled,

And broke against my ear.

I laughed a wooden laugh

That I could fear a door,

Who danger and the dead had faced,

But never quaked before.

I fitted to the latch

My hand, with trembling care,

Lest back the awful door should spring,

And leave me standing there.

I moved my fingers off

As cautiously as glass,

And held my ears, and like a thief

Fled gasping from the house.

LXXX

Prayer is the little implement

Through which men reach

Where presence is denied them

They fling their speech

By means of it in God’s ear;

If then He hear,

This sums the apparatus

Comprised in prayer.

LXXXI

I know that he exists

Somewhere, in silence.

He has hid his rare life

From our gross eyes.

’T is an instant’s play,

’T is a fond ambush,

Just to make bliss

Earn her own surprise!

But should the play

Prove piercing earnest,

Should the glee glaze

In death’s stiff stare,

Would not the fun

Look too expensive?

Would not the jest

Have crawled too far?

LXXXII

Musicians wrestle everywhere:

All day, among the crowded air,

I hear the silver strife;

And—waking long before the dawn—

Such transport breaks upon the town

I think it that “new life!”

It is not bird, it has no nest;

Nor band, in brass and scarlet dressed,

Nor tambourine, nor man;

It is not hymn from pulpit read,—

The morning stars the treble led

On time’s first afternoon!

Some say it is the spheres at play!

Some say that bright majority

Of vanished dames and men!

Some think it service in the place

Where we, with late, celestial face,

Please God, shall ascertain!

LXXXIII

Just lost when I was saved!

Just felt the world go by!

Just girt me for the onset with eternity,

When breath blew back,

And on the other side

I heard recede the disappointed tide!

Therefore, as one returned, I feel,

Odd secrets of the line to tell!

Some sailor, skirting foreign shores,

Some pale reporter from the awful doors

Before the seal!

Next time, to stay!

Next time, the things to see

By ear unheard,

Unscrutinized by eye.

Next time, to tarry,

While the ages steal,—

Slow tramp the centuries,

And the cycles wheel.

LXXXIV

’T is little I could care for pearls

Who own the ample sea;

Or brooches, when the Emperor

With rubies pelteth me;

Or gold, who am the Prince of Mines;

Or diamonds, when I see

A diadem to fit a dome

Continual crowning me.

LXXXV

Superiority to fate

Is difficult to learn.

’T is not conferred by any,

But possible to earn

A pittance at a time,

Until, to her surprise,

The soul with strict economy

Subsists till Paradise.

LXXXVI

Hope is a subtle glutton;

He feeds upon the fair;

And yet, inspected closely,

What abstinence is there!

His is the halcyon table

That never seats but one,

And whatsoever is consumed

The same amounts remain.

LXXXVII

Forbidden fruit a flavor has

That lawful orchards mocks;

How luscious lies the pea within

The pod that Duty locks!

LXXXVIII

Heaven is what I cannot reach!

The apple on the tree,

Provided it do hopeless hang,

That “heaven” is, to me.

The color on the cruising cloud,

The interdicted ground

Behind the hill, the house behind,—

There Paradise is found!

LXXXIX

A word is dead

When it is said,

Some say.

I say it just

Begins to live

That day.

XC

To venerate the simple days

Which lead the seasons by,

Needs but to remember

That from you or me

They may take the trifle

Termed mortality!

To invest existence with a stately air,

Needs but to remember

That the acorn there

Is the egg of forests

For the upper air!

XCI

It’s such a little thing to weep,

So short a thing to sigh;

And yet by trades the size of these

We men and women die!

XCII

Drowning is not so pitiful

As the attempt to rise.

Three times, ’t is said, a sinking man

Comes up to face the skies,

And then declines forever

To that abhorred abode

Where hope and he part company,—

For he is grasped of God.

The Maker’s cordial visage,

However good to see,

Is shunned, we must admit it,

Like an adversity.

XCIII

How still the bells in steeples stand,

Till, swollen with the sky,

They leap upon their silver feet

In frantic melody!

XCIV

If the foolish call them “flowers”,

Need the wiser tell?

If the savants “classify” them,

It is just as well!

Those who read the Revelations

Must not criticise

Those who read the same edition

With beclouded eyes!

Could we stand with that old Moses

Canaan denied,—

Scan, like him, the stately landscape

On the other side,—

Doubtless we should deem superfluous

Many sciences

Not pursued by learnèd angels

In scholastic skies!

Low amid that glad Belles lettres

Grant that we may stand,

Stars, amid profound Galaxies,

At that grand “Right hand”!

XCV

Could mortal lip divine

The undeveloped freight

Of a delivered syllable,

’T would crumble with the weight.

XCVI

My life closed twice before its close;

It yet remains to see

If Immortality unveil

A third event to me,

So huge, so hopeless to conceive,

As these that twice befell.

Parting is all we know of heaven,

And all we need of hell.

XCVII

We never know how high we are

Till we are called to rise;

And then, if we are true to plan,

Our statures touch the skies.

The heroism we recite

Would be a daily thing,

Did not ourselves the cubits warp

For fear to be a king.

XCVIII

While I was fearing it, it came,

But came with less of fear,

Because that fearing it so long

Had almost made it dear.

There is a fitting a dismay,

A fitting a despair.

’T is harder knowing it is due,

Than knowing it is here.

The trying on the utmost,

The morning it is new,

Is terribler than wearing it

A whole existence through.

XCIX

There is no frigate like a book

To take us lands away,

Nor any coursers like a page

Of prancing poetry.

This traverse may the poorest take

Without oppress of toll;

How frugal is the chariot

That bears a human soul!

C

Who has not found the heaven below

Will fail of it above.

God’s residence is next to mine,

His furniture is love.

CI

A face devoid of love or grace,

A hateful, hard, successful face,

A face with which a stone

Would feel as thoroughly at ease

As were they old acquaintances,—

First time together thrown.

CII

I had a guinea golden;

I lost it in the sand,

And though the sum was simple,

And pounds were in the land,

Still had it such a value

Unto my frugal eye,

That when I could not find it

I sat me down to sigh.

I had a crimson robin

Who sang full many a day,

But when the woods were painted

He, too, did fly away.

Time brought me other robins,—

Their ballads were the same,—

Still for my missing troubadour

I kept the “house at hame.”

I had a star in heaven;

One Pleiad was its name,

And when I was not heeding

It wandered from the same.

And though the skies are crowded,

And all the night ashine,

I do not care about it,

Since none of them are mine.

My story has a moral:

I have a missing friend,—

Pleiad its name, and robin,

And guinea in the sand,—

And when this mournful ditty,

Accompanied with tear,

Shall meet the eye of traitor

In country far from here,

Grant that repentance solemn

May seize upon his mind,

And he no consolation

Beneath the sun may find.

CIII

From all the jails the boys and girls

Ecstatically leap,—

Beloved, only afternoon

That prison does n’t keep.

They storm the earth and stun the air,

A mob of solid bliss.

Alas! that frowns could lie in wait

For such a foe as this!

CIV

Few get enough,—enough is one;

To that ethereal throng

Have not each one of us the right

To stealthily belong?

CV

Upon the gallows hung a wretch,

Too sullied for the hell

To which the law entitled him.

As nature’s curtain fell

The one who bore him tottered in,

For this was woman’s son.

“ ’T was all I had,” she stricken gasped;

Oh, what a livid boon!

CVI

I felt a cleavage in my mind

As if my brain had split;

I tried to match it, seam by seam,

But could not make them fit.

The thought behind I strove to join

Unto the thought before,

But sequence ravelled out of reach

Like balls upon a floor.

CVII

The reticent volcano keeps

His never slumbering plan;

Confided are his projects pink

To no precarious man.

If nature will not tell the tale

Jehovah told to her,

Can human nature not survive

Without a listener?

Admonished by her buckled lips

Let every babbler be.

The only secret people keep

Is Immortality.

CVIII

If recollecting were forgetting,

Then I remember not;

And if forgetting, recollecting,

How near I had forgot!

And if to miss were merry,

And if to mourn were gay,

How very blithe the fingers

That gathered these to-day!

CIX

The farthest thunder that I heard

Was nearer than the sky,

And rumbles still, though torrid noons

Have lain their missiles by.

The lightning that preceded it

Struck no one but myself,

But I would not exchange the bolt

For all the rest of life.

Indebtedness to oxygen

The chemist may repay,

But not the obligation

To electricity.

It founds the homes and decks the days,

And every clamor bright

Is but the gleam concomitant

Of that waylaying light.

The thought is quiet as a flake,—

A crash without a sound;

How life’s reverberation

Its explanation found!

CX

On the bleakness of my lot

Bloom I strove to raise.

Late, my acre of a rock

Yielded grape and maize.

Soil of flint if steadfast tilled

Will reward the hand;

Seed of palm by Lybian sun

Fructified in sand.

CXI

A door just opened on a street—

I, lost, was passing by—

An instant’s width of warmth disclosed,

And wealth, and company.

The door as sudden shut, and I,

I, lost, was passing by,—

Lost doubly, but by contrast most,

Enlightening misery.

CXII

Are friends delight or pain?

Could bounty but remain

Riches were good.

But if they only stay

Bolder to fly away,

Riches are sad.

CXIII

Ashes denote that fire was;

Respect the grayest pile

For the departed creature’s sake

That hovered there awhile.

Fire exists the first in light,

And then consolidates,—

Only the chemist can disclose

Into what carbonates.

CXIV

Fate slew him, but he did not drop;

She felled—he did not fall—

Impaled him on her fiercest stakes—

He neutralized them all.

She stung him, sapped his firm advance,

But, when her worst was done,

And he, unmoved, regarded her,

Acknowledged him a man.

CXV

Finite to fail, but infinite to venture.

For the one ship that struts the shore

Many’s the gallant, overwhelmed creature

Nodding in navies nevermore.

CXVI

I measure every grief I meet

With analytic eyes;

I wonder if it weighs like mine,

Or has an easier size.

I wonder if they bore it long,

Or did it just begin?

I could not tell the date of mine,

It feels so old a pain.

I wonder if it hurts to live,

And if they have to try,

And whether, could they choose between,

They would not rather die.

I wonder if when years have piled—

Some thousands—on the cause

Of early hurt, if such a lapse

Could give them any pause;

Or would they go on aching still

Through centuries above,

Enlightened to a larger pain

By contrast with the love.

The grieved are many, I am told;

The reason deeper lies,—

Death is but one and comes but once,

And only nails the eyes.

There’s grief of want, and greif of cold,—

A sort they call “despair”;

There’s banishment from native eyes,

In sight of native air.

And though I may not guess the kind

Correctly, yet to me

A piercing comfort it affords

In passing Calvary,

To note the fashions of the cross,

Of those that stand alone,

Still fascinated to presume

That some are like my own.

CXVII

I have a king who does not speak;

So, wondering, thro’ the hours meek

I trudge the day away,—

Half glad when it is night and sleep,

If, haply, thro’ a dream to peep

In parlors shut by day.

And if I do, when morning comes,

It is as if a hundred drums

Did round my pillow roll,

And shouts fill all my childish sky,

And bells keep saying “victory”

From steeples in my soul!

And if I don’t, the little Bird

Within the Orchard is not heard,

And I omit to pray,

“Father, thy will be done” to-day,

For my will goes the other way,

And it were perjury!

CXVIII

It dropped so low in my regard

I heard it hit the ground,

And go to pieces on the stones

At bottom of my mind;

Yet blamed the fate that fractured, less

Than I reviled myself

For entertaining plated wares

Upon my silver shelf.

CXIX

To lose one’s faith surpasses

The loss of an estate,

Because estates can be

Replenished,—faith cannot.

Inherited with life,

Belief but once can be;

Annihilate a single clause,

And Being’s beggary.

CXX

I had a daily bliss

I half indifferent viewed,

Till sudden I perceived it stir,—

It grew as I pursued,

Till when, around a crag,

It wasted from my sight,

Enlarged beyond my utmost scope,

I learned its sweetness right.

CXXI

I worked for chaff, and earning wheat

Was haughty and betrayed.

What right had fields to arbitrate

In matters ratified?

I tasted wheat,—and hated chaff,

And thanked the ample friend;

Wisdom is more becoming viewed

At distance than at hand.

CXXII

Life, and Death, and Giants

Such as these, are still.

Minor apparatus, hopper of the mill,

Beetle at the candle,

Or a fife’s small fame,

Maintain by accident

That they proclaim.

CXXIII

Our lives are Swiss,—

So still, so cool,

Till, some odd afternoon,

The Alps neglect their curtains,

And we look farther on.

Italy stands the other side,

While, like a guard between,

The solemn Alps,

The siren Alps,

Forever intervene!

CXXIV

Remembrance has a rear and front,—

’T is something like a house;

It has a garret also

For refuse and the mouse,

Besides, the deepest cellar

That ever mason hewed;

Look to it, by its fathoms

Ourselves be not pursued.

CXXV

To hang our head ostensibly,

And subsequent to find

That such was not the posture

Of our immortal mind,

Affords the sly presumption

That, in so dense a fuzz,

You, too, take cobweb attitudes

Upon a plane of gauze!

CXXVI

The brain is wider than the sky,

For, put them side by side,

The one the other will include

With ease, and you beside.

The brain is deeper than the sea,

For, hold them, blue to blue,

The one the other will absorb,

As sponges, buckets do.

The brain is just the weight of God,

For, lift them, pound for pound,

And they will differ, if they do,

As syllable from sound.

CXXVII

The bone that has no marrow;

What ultimate for that?

It is not fit for table,

For beggar, or for cat.

A bone has obligations,

A being has the same;

A marrowless assembly

Is culpabler than shame.

But how shall finished creatures

A function fresh obtain?—

Old Nicodemus’ phantom

Confronting us again!

CXXVIII

The past is such a curious creature,

To look her in the face

A transport may reward us,

Or a disgrace.

Unarmed if any meet her,

I charge him, fly!

Her rusty ammunition

Might yet reply!

CXXIX

To help our bleaker parts

Salubrious hours are given,

Which if they do not fit for earth

Drill silently for heaven.

CXXX

What soft, cherubic creatures

These gentlewomen are!

One would as soon assault a plush

Or violate a star.

Such dimity convictions,

A horror so refined

Of freckled human nature,

Of Deity ashamed,—

It’s such a common glory,

A fisherman’s degree!

Redemption, brittle lady,

Be so, ashamed of thee.

CXXXI

Who never wanted,—maddest joy

Remains to him unknown;

The banquet of abstemiousness

Surpasses that of wine.

Within its hope, though yet ungrasped

Desire’s perfect goal,

No nearer, lest reality

Should disenthrall thy soul.

CXXXII

It might be easier

To fail with land in sight,

Than gain my blue peninsula

To perish of delight.

CXXXIII

You cannot put a fire out;

A thing that can ignite

Can go, itself, without a fan

Upon the slowest night.

You cannot fold a flood

And put it in a drawer,—

Because the winds would find it out,

And tell your cedar floor.

CXXXIV

A modest lot, a fame petite,

A brief campaign of sting and sweet

Is plenty! Is enough!

A sailor’s business is the shore,

A soldier’s—balls. Who asketh more

Must seek the neighboring life!

CXXXV

Is bliss, then, such abyss

I must not put my foot amiss

For fear I spoil my shoe?

I’d rather suit my foot

Than save my boot,

For yet to buy another pair

Is possible

At any fair.

But bliss is sold just once;

The patent lost

None buy it any more.

CXXXVI

I stepped from plank to plank

So slow and cautiously;

The stars about my head I felt,

About my feet the sea.

I knew not but the next

Would be my final inch,—

This gave me that precarious gait

Some call experience.

CXXXVII

One day is there of the series

Termed Thanksgiving day,

Celebrated part at table,

Part in memory.

Neither patriarch nor pussy,

I dissect the play;

Seems it, to my hooded thinking,

Reflex holiday.

Had there been no sharp subtraction

From the early sum,

Not an acre or a caption

Where was once a room,

Not a mention, whose small pebble

Wrinkled any bay,—

Unto such, were such assembly,

’T were Thanksgiving day.

CXXXVIII

Softened by Time’s consummate plush,

How sleek the woe appears

That threatened childhood’s citadel

And undermined the years!

Bisected now by bleaker griefs,

We envy the despair

That devastated childhood’s realm,

So easy to repair.