Fascicle 14 (c.1862)

J 319

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 —
Dips — 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!

J 277

What if I say I shall not wait!
What if I burst the fleshly Gate —
And pass escaped — to thee!

What if I file this Mortal — off —
See where it hurt me — That's enough —
And wade in Liberty!

They cannot take me — any more!
Dungeons can call — and Guns implore
Unmeaning — now — to me —

As laughter — was — an hour ago —
Or Laces — or a Travelling Show —
Or who died — yesterday!

J 240

Ah, Moon — and Star!
You are very far —
But were no one
Farther than you —
Do you think I'd stop
For a Firmament —
Or a Cubit — or so?

I could borrow a Bonnet
Of the Lark —
And a Chamois' Silver Boot —
And a stirrup of an Antelope —
And be with you — Tonight!

But, Moon, and Star,
Though you're very far —
There is one — farther than you —
He — is more than a firmament — from Me —
So I can never go!

J 278

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 Hearts are firmer —
Than those of Organdy —

Who is to blame? The Weaver?
Ah, the bewildering thread!
The Tapestries of Paradise
So notelessly — are made!

J 271

A solemn thing — it was — I said —
A woman — white — to be —
And wear — if God should count me fit —
Her blameless mystery —

A hallowed thing — to drop a life
Into the purple well —
Too plummetless — that it return —
Eternity — until —

I pondered how the bliss would look —
And would it feel as big —
When I could take it in my hand —
As hovering — seen — through fog —

And then — the size of this "small" life —
The Sages — call it small —
Swelled — like Horizons — in my vest —
And I sneered — softly — "small"!

J 272

I breathed enough to take the Trick —
And now, removed from Air —
I simulate the Breath, so well —
That One, to be quite sure —

The Lungs are stirless — must descend
Among the Cunning Cells —
And touch the Pantomine — Himself,
How numb, the Bellows feels!

J 238

Kill your Balm — and its Odors bless you —
Bare your Jessamine — to the storm —
And she will fling her maddest perfume —
Haply — your Summer night to Charm —

Stab the Bird — that built in your bosom —
Oh, could you catch her last Refrain —
Bubble! "forgive" — "Some better" — Bubble!
"Carol for Him — when I am gone"!

J 239

"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 Land —
Behind the Hill — the House behind —
There — Paradise — is found!

Her teasing Purples — Afternoons —
The credulous — decoy —
Enamored — of the Conjuror —
That spurned us — Yesterday!

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 582

Inconceivably solemn!
Things go gay
Pierce — by the very Press
Of Imagery —

Their far Parades — order on the eye
With a mute Pomp —
A pleading Pageantry —

Flags, are a brave sight —
But no true Eye
Ever went by One —
Steadily —

Music's triumphant —
But the fine Ear
Winces with delight
Are Drums too near —

J 422

More Life — went out — when He went
Than Ordinary Breath —
Lit with a finer Phosphor —
Requiring in the Quench —

A Power of Renowned Cold,
The Climate of the Grave
A Temperature just adequate
So Anthracite, to live —

For some — an Ampler Zero —
A Frost more needle keen
Is necessary, to reduce
The Ethiop within.

Others — extinguish easier —
A Gnat's minutest Fan
Sufficient to obliterate
A Tract of Citizen —

Whose Peat lift — amply vivid —
Ignores the solemn News
That Popocatapel exists —
Or Etna's Scarlets, Choose —

J 423

The Months have ends — the Years — a knot —
No Power can untie
To stretch a little further
A Skein of Misery —

The Earth lays back these tired lives
In her mysterious Drawers —
Too tenderly, that any doubt
An ultimate Repose —

The manner of the Children —
Who weary of the Day —
Themself — the noisy Plaything
They cannot put away —

J 424

Removed from Accident of Loss
By Accident of Gain
Befalling not my simple Days —
Myself had just to earn —

Of Riches — as unconscious
As is the Brown Malay
Of Pearls in Eastern Waters,
Marked His — What Holiday
Would stir his slow conception —
Had he the power to dream
That put the Dower's fraction —
Awaited even — Him —

J 299

Your Riches — taught me — Poverty.
Myself — a Millionaire
In little Wealths, as Girls could boast
Till broad as Buenos Ayre —

You drifted your Dominions —
A Different Peru —
And I esteemed All Poverty
For Life's Estate with you —

Of Mines, I little know — myself —
But just the names, of Gems —
The Colors of the Commonest —
And scarce of Diadems —

So much, that did I meet the Queen —
Her Glory I should know —
But this, must be a different Wealth —
To miss it — beggars so —

I'm sure 'tis India — all Day —
To those who look on You —
Without a stint — without a blame,
Might I — but be the Jew —

I'm sure it is Golconda —
Beyond my power to deem —
To have a smile for Mine — each Day,
How better, than a Gem!

At least, it solaces to know
That there exists — a Gold —
Altho' I prove it, just in time
Its distance — to behold —

Its far — far Treasure to surmise —
And estimate the Pearl —
That slipped my simple fingers through —
While just a Girl at School.

J 583

A Toad, can die of Light —
Death is the Common Right
Of Toads and Men —
Of Earl and Midge
The privilege —
Why swagger, then?
The Gnat's supremacy is large as Thine —

Life — is a different Thing —
So measure Wine —
Naked of Flask — Naked of Cask —
Bare Rhine —
Which Ruby's mine?

J 332

There are two Ripenings — one — of sight —
Whose forces Spheric wind
Until the Velvet product
Drop spicy to the ground —
A homelier maturing —
A process in the Bur —
That teeth of Frosts alone disclose
In far October Air.

J 584

It ceased to hurt me, though so slow
I could not feel the Anguish go —
But only knew by looking back —
That something — had benumbed the Track —

Nor when it altered, I could say,
For I had worn it, every day,
As constant as the Childish frock —
I hung upon the Peg, at night.

But not the Grief — that nestled close
As needles — ladies softly press
To Cushions Cheeks —
To keep their place —

Nor what consoled it, I could trace —
Except, whereas 'twas Wilderness —
It's better — almost Peace —

J 310

Give little Anguish —
Lives will fret —
Give Avalanches —
And they'll slant —
Straighten — look cautious for their Breath —
But make no syllable — like Death —
Who only shows the Marble Disc —
Sublimer sort — than Speech —
(Others missing?)