J 18

The Gentian weaves her fringes —
The Maple's loom is red —
My departing blossoms
Obviate parade.

A brief, but patient illness —
An hour to prepare,
And one below this morning
Is where the angels are —
It was a short procession,
The Bobolink was there —
An aged Bee addressed us —
And then we knelt in prayer —
We trust that she was willing —
We ask that we may be.
Summer — Sister — Seraph!
Let us go with thee!

In the name of the Bee —
And of the Butterfly —
And of the Breeze — Amen!

J 6

Frequently the woods are pink —
Frequently, are brown.
Frequently the hills undress
Behind my native town —
Oft a head is crested
I was wont to see —
And as oft a cranny
Where it used to be —
And the Earth — they tell me
On it's axis turned!
Wonderful rotation —
By but twelve performed!

J 19

A sepal, petal, and a thorn
Upon a common summer's morn —
A flask of Dew — A Bee or two —
A Breeze — a caper in the trees —
And I'm a Rose!

J 20

Distrustful of the Gentian —
And just to turn away,
The fluttering of her fringes
Child my perfidy —
Weary for my —————
I will singing go —
I shall not feel the sleet — then —
I shall not fear the snow.

Flees so the phantom meadow
Before the breathless Bee —
So bubble brooks in deserts
On Ears that dying lie —
Burn so the Evening Spires
To Eyes that Closing go —
Hangs so distant Heaven —
To a hand below.

J 21

We lose — because we win —
Gamblers — recollecting which
Toss their dice again!

J 22

All these my banners be.
I sow my pageantry
In May —
It rises train by train —
Then sleeps in state again —
My chancel — all the plain

To lose — if one can find again —
To miss — if one shall meet —
The Burglar cannot rob — then —
The Broker cannot cheat.
So build the hillocks gaily
Thou little spade of mine
Leaving nooks for Daisy
And for Columbine —
You and I the secret
Of the Crocus know —
Let us chant it softly —
"There is no more snow!"

To him who keeps an Orchis' heart —
The swamps are pink with June.

J 23

I had a guinea golden -
I lost it in the sand -
And tho' 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 it's name -
And when I was not heeding,
It wandered from the same -
And tho' 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" it's 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 opon his mind -
And he no consolation
Beneath the sun may find.

J 24

There is a morn by men unseen -
Whose maids opon remoter green
Keep their seraphic May -
And all day long, with dance and game,
And gambo! 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 opon that mystic green -
I ask, each new May morn.
I wait thy far - fantastic bells -
Announcing me in other dells -
Unto the different dawn!

J 323

As if I asked a common alms -
And in my wondering hand,
A stranger pressed a kingdom -
And I - bewildered stand -
As if I asked the Orient
Had it for me a morn?
And it sh'd lift it's purple dikes
And flood me with the Dawn!

J 25

She slept beneath a tree —
Remembered but by me.
I touched her Cradle mute —
She recognized the foot —
Put on her carmine suit
And see!

J 7

The feet of people walking home
With gayer sandals go -
The crocus - till she rises -
The vassal of the snow -
The lips at Hallelujah
Long years of practise bore -
Till bye and bye, these Bargemen
Walked - singing - on the shore

Pearls are the Diver's farthings
Extorted form the sea -
Pinions - the Seraph's wagon -
Pedestrian once - as we -
Night is the morning's canvas -
Larcey - 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 vail their faces -
My faith that Dark adores -
Which from it's solemn abbeys -
Such resurrection pours!

J 26

It's all I have to bring today —
This, and my heart beside —
This, and my heart, and all the fields —
And all the meadows wide —
Be sure you count — should I forget
Some one the sum could tell —
This, and my heart, and all the Bees
Which in the Clover dwell.

J 27

Morns like these - we parted
Noons like these - she rose!
Fluttering first - then firmer
To her fair repose -
Never did she lisp it
And 'twas not for me -
She was mute for transport
I, for agony!
Till the evening nearing
One the shutters drew -
Quick! a sharper rustling!
And this linnet flew!

J 28

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?

J 29

If those I loved were lost,
the crier's voice would tell me -
If those I loved were found,
the bells of Ghent would ring,
Did those I loved repose,
the Daisy would impel me -
Philip when bewildered -
bore his riddle in -

J 30

Adrift! A little boat adrift!
And night is coming down!
Will no one guide a little boat
Unto the nearest town?

So Sailors say — on yesterday —
Just as the dusk was brown
One little boat gave up its strife
And gurgled down and down.

So angels say — on yesterday —
Just as the dawn was red
One little boat — o'erspent with gales —
Retrimmed its masts — redecked its sails —
And shot — exultant on!

J 31

Summer for thee, grant I may be
When Summer days are flown!
Thy music still, when Whippowil
And Oriole - are done!

For thee to bloom, I'll skip the tomb
And row my blossoms o'er!
Pray gather me -
   Anemone -
Thy flower - forevermore!

J 32

When Roses cease to bloom, Sir,
And Violets are done —
When Bumblebees in solemn flight
Have passed beyond the Sun —
The hand that paused to gather
Upon this Summer's day
Will idle lie — in Auburn —
Then take my flowers — pray!

J 33

Oh if remembering were forgetting -
Then I remember not!
And if forgetting - recollecting -
How near I had forgot!
And if to miss - were merry -
And to mourn were gay,
How very blithe the maiden
Who gathered these today!

J 4

Write! Comrade, write!

On this wondrous sea
Sailing silently,
Ho! Pilot, ho!
Knowest thou the shore
Where no breakers roar -
Where the storm is o'er?

In the peaceful west
Many the sails at rest -
The anchors fast -
Thither I pilot thee -
Land Ho! Eternity!
Ashore at last!

J 34

Garlands for Queens, may be -
Laurels - for rare degree
Of soul or sword -
Ah - but remembering me -
Ah - but remembering thee -
Nature in chivalry -
Nature in charity -
Nature in equity -
The Rose ordained!

J 35

Nobody knows this little rose;
It might a pilgrim be,
Did I not take it from the ways,
And lift it up to thee!

Only a bee will miss it;
Only a butterfly,
Hastening from far journey,
On it's breast to lie.

Only a bird will wonder;
Only a breeze will sigh;
Ah! little rose, how easy
For such as thee to die!