The World Is Not Conclusion

Front 1

The world is not conclusion

Back 1

This World is not Conclusion.

A Species stands beyond -

Invisible, as Music -

But positive, as Sound -

It beckons, and it baffles -

Philosophy, dont know -

And through a Riddle, at the last -

Sagacity, must go -

To guess it, puzzles scholars -

To gain it, Men have borne

Contempt of Generations

And Crucifixion, shown -

Faith slips - and laughs, and rallies -

Blushes, if any see -

Plucks at a twig of Evidence -

And asks a Vane, the way -

Much Gesture, from the Pulpit -

Strong Hallelujahs roll -

Narcotics cannot still the Tooth

That nibbles at the soul -

Hint 1

Species, it beckons and It baffles, philosophy, riddle, sagacity, scholars, men generations, crucifixion, faith slips, blushes, evidence, vane, pulpit/gesture, hallelujahs, narcotics/soul

Front 2

What mystery pervades a well!

Back 2

1400

What mystery pervades a well!

That water lives so far—

A neighbor from another world

Residing in a jar

Whose limit none have ever seen,

But just his lid of glass—

Like looking every time you please

In an abyss’s face!

The grass does not appear afraid,

I often wonder he

Can stand so close and look so bold

At what is awe to me.

Related somehow they may be,

The sedge stands next the sea—

Where he is floorless

And does no timidity betray

But nature is a stranger yet;

The ones that cite her most

Have never passed her haunted house,

Nor simplified her ghost.

To pity those that know her not

Is helped by the regret

That those who know her, know her less

The nearer her they get.

Front 3

There's a certain Slant of light

Back 3

There's a certain Slant of light,

Winter Afternoons –

That oppresses, like the Heft

Of Cathedral Tunes –

Heavenly Hurt, it gives us –

We can find no scar,

But internal difference –

Where the Meanings, are –

None may teach it – Any –

'Tis the seal Despair –

An imperial affliction

Sent us of the Air –

When it comes, the Landscape listens –

Shadows – hold their breath –

When it goes, 'tis like the Distance

On the look of Death –

Front 4

The last Night that She lived

Back 4

The last night that she lived,

It was a common night,

Except the dying; this to us

Made nature different.

We noticed smallest things,—

Things overlooked before,

By this great light upon our minds

Italicized, as ’t were.

That others could exist

While she must finish quite,

A jealousy for her arose

So nearly infinite.

We waited while she passed;

It was a narrow time,

Too jostled were our souls to speak,

At length the notice came.

She mentioned, and forgot;

Then lightly as a reed

Bent to the water, shivered scarce,

Consented, and was dead.

And we, we placed the hair,

And drew the head erect;

And then an awful leisure was, Belief to regulate.

Front 5

One need not be a Chamber - to be Haunted

Back 5

One need not be a Chamber—to be Haunted—

One need not be a House—

The Brain has Corridors—surpassing

Material Place—

Far safer, of a Midnight Meeting

External Ghost

Than its interior Confronting—

That Cooler Host.

Far safer, through an Abbey gallop,

The Stones a'chase—

Than Unarmed, one's a'self encounter—

In lonesome Place—

Ourself behind ourself, concealed—

Should startle most—

Assassin hid in our Apartment

Be Horror's least.

The Body—borrows a Revolver—

He bolts the Door—

O'erlooking a superior spectre—

Or More—

Front 6

One need not be a Chamber - to be Haunted

Back 6

One need not be a Chamber—to be Haunted—

One need not be a House—

The Brain has Corridors—surpassing

Material Place—

Far safer, of a Midnight Meeting

External Ghost

Than its interior Confronting—

That Cooler Host.

Far safer, through an Abbey gallop,

The Stones a'chase—

Than Unarmed, one's a'self encounter—

In lonesome Place—

Ourself behind ourself, concealed—

Should startle most—

Assassin hid in our Apartment

Be Horror's least.

The Body—borrows a Revolver—

He bolts the Door—

O'erlooking a superior spectre—

Or More—

Front 7

My Life had, stood - a Loaded Gun

Back 7

My Life had stood - a Loaded Gun -

In Corners - till a Day

The Owner passed - identified -

And carried Me away -

And now We roam in Sovreign Woods -

And now We hunt the Doe -

And every time I speak for Him

The Mountains straight reply -

And do I smile, such cordial light

Opon the Valley glow -

It is as a Vesuvian face

Had let it’s pleasure through -

And when at Night - Our good Day done -

I guard My Master’s Head -

’Tis better than the Eider Duck’s

Deep Pillow - to have shared -

To foe of His - I’m deadly foe -

None stir the second time -

On whom I lay a Yellow Eye -

Or an emphatic Thumb -

Though I than He - may longer live

He longer must - than I -

For I have but the power to kill,

Without - the power to die -

Front 8

One need not be a Chamber - to be Haunted

Back 8

One need not be a Chamber—to be Haunted—

One need not be a House—

The Brain has Corridors—surpassing

Material Place—

Far safer, of a Midnight Meeting

External Ghost

Than its interior Confronting—

That Cooler Host.

Far safer, through an Abbey gallop,

The Stones a'chase—

Than Unarmed, one's a'self encounter—

In lonesome Place—

Ourself behind ourself, concealed—

Should startle most—

Assassin hid in our Apartment

Be Horror's least.

The Body—borrows a Revolver—

He bolts the Door—

O'erlooking a superior spectre—

Or More—

Front 9

My Life had, stood - a Loaded Gun

Back 9

My Life had stood - a Loaded Gun -

In Corners - till a Day

The Owner passed - identified -

And carried Me away -

And now We roam in Sovreign Woods -

And now We hunt the Doe -

And every time I speak for Him

The Mountains straight reply -

And do I smile, such cordial light

Opon the Valley glow -

It is as a Vesuvian face

Had let it’s pleasure through -

And when at Night - Our good Day done -

I guard My Master’s Head -

’Tis better than the Eider Duck’s

Deep Pillow - to have shared -

To foe of His - I’m deadly foe -

None stir the second time -

On whom I lay a Yellow Eye -

Or an emphatic Thumb -

Though I than He - may longer live

He longer must - than I -

For I have but the power to kill,

Without - the power to die -

Front 10

It was not Death, for I stood up,

Back 10

It was not Death, for I stood up,

And all the Dead, lie down -

It was not Night, for all the Bells

Put out their Tongues, for Noon.

It was not Frost, for on my Flesh

I felt Siroccos - crawl -

Nor Fire - for just my marble feet

Could keep a Chancel, cool -

And yet, it tasted, like them all,

The Figures I have seen

Set orderly, for Burial

Reminded me, of mine -

As if my life were shaven,

And fitted to a frame,

And could not breathe without a key,

And ’twas like Midnight, some -

When everything that ticked - has stopped -

And space stares - all around -

Or Grisly frosts - first Autumn morns,

Repeal the Beating Ground -

But most, like Chaos - Stopless - cool -

Without a Chance, or spar -

Or even a Report of Land -

To justify - Despair.

Front 11

One need not be a Chamber - to be Haunted

Back 11

One need not be a Chamber—to be Haunted—

One need not be a House—

The Brain has Corridors—surpassing

Material Place—

Far safer, of a Midnight Meeting

External Ghost

Than its interior Confronting—

That Cooler Host.

Far safer, through an Abbey gallop,

The Stones a'chase—

Than Unarmed, one's a'self encounter—

In lonesome Place—

Ourself behind ourself, concealed—

Should startle most—

Assassin hid in our Apartment

Be Horror's least.

The Body—borrows a Revolver—

He bolts the Door—

O'erlooking a superior spectre—

Or More—

Front 12

My Life had, stood - a Loaded Gun

Back 12

My Life had stood - a Loaded Gun -

In Corners - till a Day

The Owner passed - identified -

And carried Me away -

And now We roam in Sovreign Woods -

And now We hunt the Doe -

And every time I speak for Him

The Mountains straight reply -

And do I smile, such cordial light

Opon the Valley glow -

It is as a Vesuvian face

Had let it’s pleasure through -

And when at Night - Our good Day done -

I guard My Master’s Head -

’Tis better than the Eider Duck’s

Deep Pillow - to have shared -

To foe of His - I’m deadly foe -

None stir the second time -

On whom I lay a Yellow Eye -

Or an emphatic Thumb -

Though I than He - may longer live

He longer must - than I -

For I have but the power to kill,

Without - the power to die -

Front 13

It was not Death, for I stood up,

Back 13

It was not Death, for I stood up,

And all the Dead, lie down -

It was not Night, for all the Bells

Put out their Tongues, for Noon.

It was not Frost, for on my Flesh

I felt Siroccos - crawl -

Nor Fire - for just my marble feet

Could keep a Chancel, cool -

And yet, it tasted, like them all,

The Figures I have seen

Set orderly, for Burial

Reminded me, of mine -

As if my life were shaven,

And fitted to a frame,

And could not breathe without a key,

And ’twas like Midnight, some -

When everything that ticked - has stopped -

And space stares - all around -

Or Grisly frosts - first Autumn morns,

Repeal the Beating Ground -

But most, like Chaos - Stopless - cool -

Without a Chance, or spar -

Or even a Report of Land -

To justify - Despair.

Front 14

I heard a Fly buzz- when I died-

Back 14

I heard a Fly buzz - when I died -

The Stillness in the Room

Was like the Stillness in the Air -

Between the Heaves of Storm -

The Eyes around - had wrung them dry -

And Breaths were gathering firm

For that last Onset - when the King

Be witnessed - in the Room -

I willed my Keepsakes - Signed away

What portion of me be

Assignable - and then it was

There interposed a Fly -

With Blue - uncertain - stumbling Buzz -

Between the light - and me -

And then the Windows failed - and then

I could not see to see -

Front 15

One need not be a Chamber - to be Haunted

Back 15

One need not be a Chamber—to be Haunted—

One need not be a House—

The Brain has Corridors—surpassing

Material Place—

Far safer, of a Midnight Meeting

External Ghost

Than its interior Confronting—

That Cooler Host.

Far safer, through an Abbey gallop,

The Stones a'chase—

Than Unarmed, one's a'self encounter—

In lonesome Place—

Ourself behind ourself, concealed—

Should startle most—

Assassin hid in our Apartment

Be Horror's least.

The Body—borrows a Revolver—

He bolts the Door—

O'erlooking a superior spectre—

Or More—

Front 16

My Life had, stood - a Loaded Gun

Back 16

My Life had stood - a Loaded Gun -

In Corners - till a Day

The Owner passed - identified -

And carried Me away -

And now We roam in Sovreign Woods -

And now We hunt the Doe -

And every time I speak for Him

The Mountains straight reply -

And do I smile, such cordial light

Opon the Valley glow -

It is as a Vesuvian face

Had let it’s pleasure through -

And when at Night - Our good Day done -

I guard My Master’s Head -

’Tis better than the Eider Duck’s

Deep Pillow - to have shared -

To foe of His - I’m deadly foe -

None stir the second time -

On whom I lay a Yellow Eye -

Or an emphatic Thumb -

Though I than He - may longer live

He longer must - than I -

For I have but the power to kill,

Without - the power to die -

Front 17

It was not Death, for I stood up,

Back 17

It was not Death, for I stood up,

And all the Dead, lie down -

It was not Night, for all the Bells

Put out their Tongues, for Noon.

It was not Frost, for on my Flesh

I felt Siroccos - crawl -

Nor Fire - for just my marble feet

Could keep a Chancel, cool -

And yet, it tasted, like them all,

The Figures I have seen

Set orderly, for Burial

Reminded me, of mine -

As if my life were shaven,

And fitted to a frame,

And could not breathe without a key,

And ’twas like Midnight, some -

When everything that ticked - has stopped -

And space stares - all around -

Or Grisly frosts - first Autumn morns,

Repeal the Beating Ground -

But most, like Chaos - Stopless - cool -

Without a Chance, or spar -

Or even a Report of Land -

To justify - Despair.

Front 18

I heard a Fly buzz- when I died-

Back 18

I heard a Fly buzz - when I died -

The Stillness in the Room

Was like the Stillness in the Air -

Between the Heaves of Storm -

The Eyes around - had wrung them dry -

And Breaths were gathering firm

For that last Onset - when the King

Be witnessed - in the Room -

I willed my Keepsakes - Signed away

What portion of me be

Assignable - and then it was

There interposed a Fly -

With Blue - uncertain - stumbling Buzz -

Between the light - and me -

And then the Windows failed - and then

I could not see to see -

Front 19

I felt a Funeral, in my Brain

Back 19

I felt a Funeral, in my Brain,

And Mourners to and fro

Kept treading - treading - till it seemed

That Sense was breaking through -

And when they all were seated,

A Service, like a Drum -

Kept beating - beating - till I thought

My mind was going numb -

And then I heard them lift a Box

And creak across my Soul

With those same Boots of Lead, again,

Then Space - began to toll,

As all the Heavens were a Bell,

And Being, but an Ear,

And I, and Silence, some strange Race,

Wrecked, solitary, here -

And then a Plank in Reason, broke,

And I dropped down, and down -

And hit a World, at every plunge,

And Finished knowing - then -

Front 20

One need not be a Chamber - to be Haunted

Back 20

One need not be a Chamber—to be Haunted—

One need not be a House—

The Brain has Corridors—surpassing

Material Place—

Far safer, of a Midnight Meeting

External Ghost

Than its interior Confronting—

That Cooler Host.

Far safer, through an Abbey gallop,

The Stones a'chase—

Than Unarmed, one's a'self encounter—

In lonesome Place—

Ourself behind ourself, concealed—

Should startle most—

Assassin hid in our Apartment

Be Horror's least.

The Body—borrows a Revolver—

He bolts the Door—

O'erlooking a superior spectre—

Or More—

Front 21

My Life had, stood - a Loaded Gun

Back 21

My Life had stood - a Loaded Gun -

In Corners - till a Day

The Owner passed - identified -

And carried Me away -

And now We roam in Sovreign Woods -

And now We hunt the Doe -

And every time I speak for Him

The Mountains straight reply -

And do I smile, such cordial light

Opon the Valley glow -

It is as a Vesuvian face

Had let it’s pleasure through -

And when at Night - Our good Day done -

I guard My Master’s Head -

’Tis better than the Eider Duck’s

Deep Pillow - to have shared -

To foe of His - I’m deadly foe -

None stir the second time -

On whom I lay a Yellow Eye -

Or an emphatic Thumb -

Though I than He - may longer live

He longer must - than I -

For I have but the power to kill,

Without - the power to die -

Front 22

It was not Death, for I stood up,

Back 22

It was not Death, for I stood up,

And all the Dead, lie down -

It was not Night, for all the Bells

Put out their Tongues, for Noon.

It was not Frost, for on my Flesh

I felt Siroccos - crawl -

Nor Fire - for just my marble feet

Could keep a Chancel, cool -

And yet, it tasted, like them all,

The Figures I have seen

Set orderly, for Burial

Reminded me, of mine -

As if my life were shaven,

And fitted to a frame,

And could not breathe without a key,

And ’twas like Midnight, some -

When everything that ticked - has stopped -

And space stares - all around -

Or Grisly frosts - first Autumn morns,

Repeal the Beating Ground -

But most, like Chaos - Stopless - cool -

Without a Chance, or spar -

Or even a Report of Land -

To justify - Despair.

Front 23

I heard a Fly buzz- when I died-

Back 23

I heard a Fly buzz - when I died -

The Stillness in the Room

Was like the Stillness in the Air -

Between the Heaves of Storm -

The Eyes around - had wrung them dry -

And Breaths were gathering firm

For that last Onset - when the King

Be witnessed - in the Room -

I willed my Keepsakes - Signed away

What portion of me be

Assignable - and then it was

There interposed a Fly -

With Blue - uncertain - stumbling Buzz -

Between the light - and me -

And then the Windows failed - and then

I could not see to see -

Front 24

I felt a Funeral, in my Brain

Back 24

I felt a Funeral, in my Brain,

And Mourners to and fro

Kept treading - treading - till it seemed

That Sense was breaking through -

And when they all were seated,

A Service, like a Drum -

Kept beating - beating - till I thought

My mind was going numb -

And then I heard them lift a Box

And creak across my Soul

With those same Boots of Lead, again,

Then Space - began to toll,

As all the Heavens were a Bell,

And Being, but an Ear,

And I, and Silence, some strange Race,

Wrecked, solitary, here -

And then a Plank in Reason, broke,

And I dropped down, and down -

And hit a World, at every plunge,

And Finished knowing - then -

Front 25

Going to Him! Happy letter!

Back 25

Going to Him! Happy letter!

Tell Him

Tell Him the page I didn't write

Tell Him — I only said the Syntax

And left the Verb and the pronoun out

Tell Him just how the fingers hurried

Then — how they waded — slow — slow

And then you wished you had eyes in your pages

So you could see what moved them so

Tell Him — it wasn't a Practised Writer

You guessed — from the way the sentence toiled

You could hear the Bodice tug, behind you

As if it held but the might of a child

You almost pitied it — you — it worked so

Tell Him — no — you may quibble there

For it would split His Heart, to know it

And then you and I, were silenter

Tell Him — Night finished — before we finished

And the Old Clock kept neighing "Day"!

And you — got sleepy — and begged to be ended

What could it hinder so — to say?

Tell Him — just how she sealed you — Cautious!

But — if He ask where you are hid

Until tomorrow — Happy letter!

Gesture Coquette — and shake your Head!

Front 26

One need not be a Chamber - to be Haunted

Back 26

One need not be a Chamber—to be Haunted—

One need not be a House—

The Brain has Corridors—surpassing

Material Place—

Far safer, of a Midnight Meeting

External Ghost

Than its interior Confronting—

That Cooler Host.

Far safer, through an Abbey gallop,

The Stones a'chase—

Than Unarmed, one's a'self encounter—

In lonesome Place—

Ourself behind ourself, concealed—

Should startle most—

Assassin hid in our Apartment

Be Horror's least.

The Body—borrows a Revolver—

He bolts the Door—

O'erlooking a superior spectre—

Or More—

Front 27

My Life had, stood - a Loaded Gun

Back 27

My Life had stood - a Loaded Gun -

In Corners - till a Day

The Owner passed - identified -

And carried Me away -

And now We roam in Sovreign Woods -

And now We hunt the Doe -

And every time I speak for Him

The Mountains straight reply -

And do I smile, such cordial light

Opon the Valley glow -

It is as a Vesuvian face

Had let it’s pleasure through -

And when at Night - Our good Day done -

I guard My Master’s Head -

’Tis better than the Eider Duck’s

Deep Pillow - to have shared -

To foe of His - I’m deadly foe -

None stir the second time -

On whom I lay a Yellow Eye -

Or an emphatic Thumb -

Though I than He - may longer live

He longer must - than I -

For I have but the power to kill,

Without - the power to die -

Front 28

It was not Death, for I stood up,

Back 28

It was not Death, for I stood up,

And all the Dead, lie down -

It was not Night, for all the Bells

Put out their Tongues, for Noon.

It was not Frost, for on my Flesh

I felt Siroccos - crawl -

Nor Fire - for just my marble feet

Could keep a Chancel, cool -

And yet, it tasted, like them all,

The Figures I have seen

Set orderly, for Burial

Reminded me, of mine -

As if my life were shaven,

And fitted to a frame,

And could not breathe without a key,

And ’twas like Midnight, some -

When everything that ticked - has stopped -

And space stares - all around -

Or Grisly frosts - first Autumn morns,

Repeal the Beating Ground -

But most, like Chaos - Stopless - cool -

Without a Chance, or spar -

Or even a Report of Land -

To justify - Despair.

Front 29

I heard a Fly buzz- when I died-

Back 29

I heard a Fly buzz - when I died -

The Stillness in the Room

Was like the Stillness in the Air -

Between the Heaves of Storm -

The Eyes around - had wrung them dry -

And Breaths were gathering firm

For that last Onset - when the King

Be witnessed - in the Room -

I willed my Keepsakes - Signed away

What portion of me be

Assignable - and then it was

There interposed a Fly -

With Blue - uncertain - stumbling Buzz -

Between the light - and me -

And then the Windows failed - and then

I could not see to see -

Front 30

I felt a Funeral, in my Brain

Back 30

I felt a Funeral, in my Brain,

And Mourners to and fro

Kept treading - treading - till it seemed

That Sense was breaking through -

And when they all were seated,

A Service, like a Drum -

Kept beating - beating - till I thought

My mind was going numb -

And then I heard them lift a Box

And creak across my Soul

With those same Boots of Lead, again,

Then Space - began to toll,

As all the Heavens were a Bell,

And Being, but an Ear,

And I, and Silence, some strange Race,

Wrecked, solitary, here -

And then a Plank in Reason, broke,

And I dropped down, and down -

And hit a World, at every plunge,

And Finished knowing - then -

Front 31

Going to Him! Happy letter!

Back 31

Going to Him! Happy letter!

Tell Him

Tell Him the page I didn't write

Tell Him — I only said the Syntax

And left the Verb and the pronoun out

Tell Him just how the fingers hurried

Then — how they waded — slow — slow

And then you wished you had eyes in your pages

So you could see what moved them so

Tell Him — it wasn't a Practised Writer

You guessed — from the way the sentence toiled

You could hear the Bodice tug, behind you

As if it held but the might of a child

You almost pitied it — you — it worked so

Tell Him — no — you may quibble there

For it would split His Heart, to know it

And then you and I, were silenter

Tell Him — Night finished — before we finished

And the Old Clock kept neighing "Day"!

And you — got sleepy — and begged to be ended

What could it hinder so — to say?

Tell Him — just how she sealed you — Cautious!

But — if He ask where you are hid

Until tomorrow — Happy letter!

Gesture Coquette — and shake your Head!

Front 32

Behind Me - dips Eternity

Back 32

Behind Me—dips Eternity—

Before Me—Immortality—

Myself—the Term between—

Death but the Drift of Eastern Gray,

Dissolving into Dawn away,

Before the West begin—

’Tis Kingdoms—afterward—they say—

In perfect—pauseless Monarchy—

Whose Prince—is Son of None—

Himself—His Dateless Dynasty—

Himself—Himself diversify—

In Duplicate divine—

’Tis Miracle before Me—then—

’Tis Miracle behind—between—

A Crescent in the Sea—

With Midnight to the North of Her—

And Midnight to the South of Her—

And Maelstrom—in the Sky—

Front 33

One need not be a Chamber - to be Haunted

Back 33

One need not be a Chamber—to be Haunted—

One need not be a House—

The Brain has Corridors—surpassing

Material Place—

Far safer, of a Midnight Meeting

External Ghost

Than its interior Confronting—

That Cooler Host.

Far safer, through an Abbey gallop,

The Stones a'chase—

Than Unarmed, one's a'self encounter—

In lonesome Place—

Ourself behind ourself, concealed—

Should startle most—

Assassin hid in our Apartment

Be Horror's least.

The Body—borrows a Revolver—

He bolts the Door—

O'erlooking a superior spectre—

Or More—

Front 34

My Life had, stood - a Loaded Gun

Back 34

My Life had stood - a Loaded Gun -

In Corners - till a Day

The Owner passed - identified -

And carried Me away -

And now We roam in Sovreign Woods -

And now We hunt the Doe -

And every time I speak for Him

The Mountains straight reply -

And do I smile, such cordial light

Opon the Valley glow -

It is as a Vesuvian face

Had let it’s pleasure through -

And when at Night - Our good Day done -

I guard My Master’s Head -

’Tis better than the Eider Duck’s

Deep Pillow - to have shared -

To foe of His - I’m deadly foe -

None stir the second time -

On whom I lay a Yellow Eye -

Or an emphatic Thumb -

Though I than He - may longer live

He longer must - than I -

For I have but the power to kill,

Without - the power to die -

Front 35

It was not Death, for I stood up,

Back 35

It was not Death, for I stood up,

And all the Dead, lie down -

It was not Night, for all the Bells

Put out their Tongues, for Noon.

It was not Frost, for on my Flesh

I felt Siroccos - crawl -

Nor Fire - for just my marble feet

Could keep a Chancel, cool -

And yet, it tasted, like them all,

The Figures I have seen

Set orderly, for Burial

Reminded me, of mine -

As if my life were shaven,

And fitted to a frame,

And could not breathe without a key,

And ’twas like Midnight, some -

When everything that ticked - has stopped -

And space stares - all around -

Or Grisly frosts - first Autumn morns,

Repeal the Beating Ground -

But most, like Chaos - Stopless - cool -

Without a Chance, or spar -

Or even a Report of Land -

To justify - Despair.

Front 36

I heard a Fly buzz- when I died-

Back 36

I heard a Fly buzz - when I died -

The Stillness in the Room

Was like the Stillness in the Air -

Between the Heaves of Storm -

The Eyes around - had wrung them dry -

And Breaths were gathering firm

For that last Onset - when the King

Be witnessed - in the Room -

I willed my Keepsakes - Signed away

What portion of me be

Assignable - and then it was

There interposed a Fly -

With Blue - uncertain - stumbling Buzz -

Between the light - and me -

And then the Windows failed - and then

I could not see to see -

Front 37

I felt a Funeral, in my Brain

Back 37

I felt a Funeral, in my Brain,

And Mourners to and fro

Kept treading - treading - till it seemed

That Sense was breaking through -

And when they all were seated,

A Service, like a Drum -

Kept beating - beating - till I thought

My mind was going numb -

And then I heard them lift a Box

And creak across my Soul

With those same Boots of Lead, again,

Then Space - began to toll,

As all the Heavens were a Bell,

And Being, but an Ear,

And I, and Silence, some strange Race,

Wrecked, solitary, here -

And then a Plank in Reason, broke,

And I dropped down, and down -

And hit a World, at every plunge,

And Finished knowing - then -

Front 38

Going to Him! Happy letter!

Back 38

Going to Him! Happy letter!

Tell Him

Tell Him the page I didn't write

Tell Him — I only said the Syntax

And left the Verb and the pronoun out

Tell Him just how the fingers hurried

Then — how they waded — slow — slow

And then you wished you had eyes in your pages

So you could see what moved them so

Tell Him — it wasn't a Practised Writer

You guessed — from the way the sentence toiled

You could hear the Bodice tug, behind you

As if it held but the might of a child

You almost pitied it — you — it worked so

Tell Him — no — you may quibble there

For it would split His Heart, to know it

And then you and I, were silenter

Tell Him — Night finished — before we finished

And the Old Clock kept neighing "Day"!

And you — got sleepy — and begged to be ended

What could it hinder so — to say?

Tell Him — just how she sealed you — Cautious!

But — if He ask where you are hid

Until tomorrow — Happy letter!

Gesture Coquette — and shake your Head!

Front 39

Behind Me - dips Eternity

Back 39

Behind Me—dips Eternity—

Before Me—Immortality—

Myself—the Term between—

Death but the Drift of Eastern Gray,

Dissolving into Dawn away,

Before the West begin—

’Tis Kingdoms—afterward—they say—

In perfect—pauseless Monarchy—

Whose Prince—is Son of None—

Himself—His Dateless Dynasty—

Himself—Himself diversify—

In Duplicate divine—

’Tis Miracle before Me—then—

’Tis Miracle behind—between—

A Crescent in the Sea—

With Midnight to the North of Her—

And Midnight to the South of Her—

And Maelstrom—in the Sky—

Front 40

Because I could not stop for Death-

Back 40

Because I could not stop for Death –

He kindly stopped for me –

The Carriage held but just Ourselves –

And Immortality.

We slowly drove – He knew no haste

And I had put away

My labor and my leisure too,

For His Civility –

We passed the School, where Children strove

At Recess – in the Ring –

We passed the Fields of Gazing Grain –

We passed the Setting Sun –

Or rather – He passed Us –

The Dews drew quivering and Chill –

For only Gossamer, my Gown –

My Tippet – only Tulle –

We paused before a House that seemed

A Swelling of the Ground –

The Roof was scarcely visible –

The Cornice – in the Ground –

Since then – 'tis Centuries – and yet

Feels shorter than the Day

I first surmised the Horses' Heads

Were toward Eternity –

Front 41

One need not be a Chamber - to be Haunted

Back 41

One need not be a Chamber—to be Haunted—

One need not be a House—

The Brain has Corridors—surpassing

Material Place—

Far safer, of a Midnight Meeting

External Ghost

Than its interior Confronting—

That Cooler Host.

Far safer, through an Abbey gallop,

The Stones a'chase—

Than Unarmed, one's a'self encounter—

In lonesome Place—

Ourself behind ourself, concealed—

Should startle most—

Assassin hid in our Apartment

Be Horror's least.

The Body—borrows a Revolver—

He bolts the Door—

O'erlooking a superior spectre—

Or More—

Front 42

My Life had, stood - a Loaded Gun

Back 42

My Life had stood - a Loaded Gun -

In Corners - till a Day

The Owner passed - identified -

And carried Me away -

And now We roam in Sovreign Woods -

And now We hunt the Doe -

And every time I speak for Him

The Mountains straight reply -

And do I smile, such cordial light

Opon the Valley glow -

It is as a Vesuvian face

Had let it’s pleasure through -

And when at Night - Our good Day done -

I guard My Master’s Head -

’Tis better than the Eider Duck’s

Deep Pillow - to have shared -

To foe of His - I’m deadly foe -

None stir the second time -

On whom I lay a Yellow Eye -

Or an emphatic Thumb -

Though I than He - may longer live

He longer must - than I -

For I have but the power to kill,

Without - the power to die -

Front 43

It was not Death, for I stood up,

Back 43

It was not Death, for I stood up,

And all the Dead, lie down -

It was not Night, for all the Bells

Put out their Tongues, for Noon.

It was not Frost, for on my Flesh

I felt Siroccos - crawl -

Nor Fire - for just my marble feet

Could keep a Chancel, cool -

And yet, it tasted, like them all,

The Figures I have seen

Set orderly, for Burial

Reminded me, of mine -

As if my life were shaven,

And fitted to a frame,

And could not breathe without a key,

And ’twas like Midnight, some -

When everything that ticked - has stopped -

And space stares - all around -

Or Grisly frosts - first Autumn morns,

Repeal the Beating Ground -

But most, like Chaos - Stopless - cool -

Without a Chance, or spar -

Or even a Report of Land -

To justify - Despair.

Front 44

I heard a Fly buzz- when I died-

Back 44

I heard a Fly buzz - when I died -

The Stillness in the Room

Was like the Stillness in the Air -

Between the Heaves of Storm -

The Eyes around - had wrung them dry -

And Breaths were gathering firm

For that last Onset - when the King

Be witnessed - in the Room -

I willed my Keepsakes - Signed away

What portion of me be

Assignable - and then it was

There interposed a Fly -

With Blue - uncertain - stumbling Buzz -

Between the light - and me -

And then the Windows failed - and then

I could not see to see -

Front 45

I felt a Funeral, in my Brain

Back 45

I felt a Funeral, in my Brain,

And Mourners to and fro

Kept treading - treading - till it seemed

That Sense was breaking through -

And when they all were seated,

A Service, like a Drum -

Kept beating - beating - till I thought

My mind was going numb -

And then I heard them lift a Box

And creak across my Soul

With those same Boots of Lead, again,

Then Space - began to toll,

As all the Heavens were a Bell,

And Being, but an Ear,

And I, and Silence, some strange Race,

Wrecked, solitary, here -

And then a Plank in Reason, broke,

And I dropped down, and down -

And hit a World, at every plunge,

And Finished knowing - then -

Front 46

Going to Him! Happy letter!

Back 46

Going to Him! Happy letter!

Tell Him

Tell Him the page I didn't write

Tell Him — I only said the Syntax

And left the Verb and the pronoun out

Tell Him just how the fingers hurried

Then — how they waded — slow — slow

And then you wished you had eyes in your pages

So you could see what moved them so

Tell Him — it wasn't a Practised Writer

You guessed — from the way the sentence toiled

You could hear the Bodice tug, behind you

As if it held but the might of a child

You almost pitied it — you — it worked so

Tell Him — no — you may quibble there

For it would split His Heart, to know it

And then you and I, were silenter

Tell Him — Night finished — before we finished

And the Old Clock kept neighing "Day"!

And you — got sleepy — and begged to be ended

What could it hinder so — to say?

Tell Him — just how she sealed you — Cautious!

But — if He ask where you are hid

Until tomorrow — Happy letter!

Gesture Coquette — and shake your Head!

Front 47

Behind Me - dips Eternity

Back 47

Behind Me—dips Eternity—

Before Me—Immortality—

Myself—the Term between—

Death but the Drift of Eastern Gray,

Dissolving into Dawn away,

Before the West begin—

’Tis Kingdoms—afterward—they say—

In perfect—pauseless Monarchy—

Whose Prince—is Son of None—

Himself—His Dateless Dynasty—

Himself—Himself diversify—

In Duplicate divine—

’Tis Miracle before Me—then—

’Tis Miracle behind—between—

A Crescent in the Sea—

With Midnight to the North of Her—

And Midnight to the South of Her—

And Maelstrom—in the Sky—

Front 48

Because I could not stop for Death-

Back 48

Because I could not stop for Death –

He kindly stopped for me –

The Carriage held but just Ourselves –

And Immortality.

We slowly drove – He knew no haste

And I had put away

My labor and my leisure too,

For His Civility –

We passed the School, where Children strove

At Recess – in the Ring –

We passed the Fields of Gazing Grain –

We passed the Setting Sun –

Or rather – He passed Us –

The Dews drew quivering and Chill –

For only Gossamer, my Gown –

My Tippet – only Tulle –

We paused before a House that seemed

A Swelling of the Ground –

The Roof was scarcely visible –

The Cornice – in the Ground –

Since then – 'tis Centuries – and yet

Feels shorter than the Day

I first surmised the Horses' Heads

Were toward Eternity –

Front 49

After great pain, a formal feeling comes

Back 49

After great pain, a formal feeling comes –

The Nerves sit ceremonious, like Tombs –

The stiff Heart questions ‘was it He, that bore,’

And ‘Yesterday, or Centuries before’?

The Feet, mechanical, go round –

A Wooden way

Of Ground, or Air, or Ought –

Regardless grown,

A Quartz contentment, like a stone –

This is the Hour of Lead –

Remembered, if outlived,

As Freezing persons, recollect the Snow –

First – Chill – then Stupor – then the letting go –

Front 50

One need not be a Chamber - to be Haunted

Back 50

One need not be a Chamber—to be Haunted—

One need not be a House—

The Brain has Corridors—surpassing

Material Place—

Far safer, of a Midnight Meeting

External Ghost

Than its interior Confronting—

That Cooler Host.

Far safer, through an Abbey gallop,

The Stones a'chase—

Than Unarmed, one's a'self encounter—

In lonesome Place—

Ourself behind ourself, concealed—

Should startle most—

Assassin hid in our Apartment

Be Horror's least.

The Body—borrows a Revolver—

He bolts the Door—

O'erlooking a superior spectre—

Or More—

Front 51

My Life had, stood - a Loaded Gun

Back 51

My Life had stood - a Loaded Gun -

In Corners - till a Day

The Owner passed - identified -

And carried Me away -

And now We roam in Sovreign Woods -

And now We hunt the Doe -

And every time I speak for Him

The Mountains straight reply -

And do I smile, such cordial light

Opon the Valley glow -

It is as a Vesuvian face

Had let it’s pleasure through -

And when at Night - Our good Day done -

I guard My Master’s Head -

’Tis better than the Eider Duck’s

Deep Pillow - to have shared -

To foe of His - I’m deadly foe -

None stir the second time -

On whom I lay a Yellow Eye -

Or an emphatic Thumb -

Though I than He - may longer live

He longer must - than I -

For I have but the power to kill,

Without - the power to die -

Front 52

It was not Death, for I stood up,

Back 52

It was not Death, for I stood up,

And all the Dead, lie down -

It was not Night, for all the Bells

Put out their Tongues, for Noon.

It was not Frost, for on my Flesh

I felt Siroccos - crawl -

Nor Fire - for just my marble feet

Could keep a Chancel, cool -

And yet, it tasted, like them all,

The Figures I have seen

Set orderly, for Burial

Reminded me, of mine -

As if my life were shaven,

And fitted to a frame,

And could not breathe without a key,

And ’twas like Midnight, some -

When everything that ticked - has stopped -

And space stares - all around -

Or Grisly frosts - first Autumn morns,

Repeal the Beating Ground -

But most, like Chaos - Stopless - cool -

Without a Chance, or spar -

Or even a Report of Land -

To justify - Despair.

Front 53

I heard a Fly buzz- when I died-

Back 53

I heard a Fly buzz - when I died -

The Stillness in the Room

Was like the Stillness in the Air -

Between the Heaves of Storm -

The Eyes around - had wrung them dry -

And Breaths were gathering firm

For that last Onset - when the King

Be witnessed - in the Room -

I willed my Keepsakes - Signed away

What portion of me be

Assignable - and then it was

There interposed a Fly -

With Blue - uncertain - stumbling Buzz -

Between the light - and me -

And then the Windows failed - and then

I could not see to see -

Front 54

I felt a Funeral, in my Brain

Back 54

I felt a Funeral, in my Brain,

And Mourners to and fro

Kept treading - treading - till it seemed

That Sense was breaking through -

And when they all were seated,

A Service, like a Drum -

Kept beating - beating - till I thought

My mind was going numb -

And then I heard them lift a Box

And creak across my Soul

With those same Boots of Lead, again,

Then Space - began to toll,

As all the Heavens were a Bell,

And Being, but an Ear,

And I, and Silence, some strange Race,

Wrecked, solitary, here -

And then a Plank in Reason, broke,

And I dropped down, and down -

And hit a World, at every plunge,

And Finished knowing - then -

Front 55

Going to Him! Happy letter!

Back 55

Going to Him! Happy letter!

Tell Him

Tell Him the page I didn't write

Tell Him — I only said the Syntax

And left the Verb and the pronoun out

Tell Him just how the fingers hurried

Then — how they waded — slow — slow

And then you wished you had eyes in your pages

So you could see what moved them so

Tell Him — it wasn't a Practised Writer

You guessed — from the way the sentence toiled

You could hear the Bodice tug, behind you

As if it held but the might of a child

You almost pitied it — you — it worked so

Tell Him — no — you may quibble there

For it would split His Heart, to know it

And then you and I, were silenter

Tell Him — Night finished — before we finished

And the Old Clock kept neighing "Day"!

And you — got sleepy — and begged to be ended

What could it hinder so — to say?

Tell Him — just how she sealed you — Cautious!

But — if He ask where you are hid

Until tomorrow — Happy letter!

Gesture Coquette — and shake your Head!

Front 56

Behind Me - dips Eternity

Back 56

Behind Me—dips Eternity—

Before Me—Immortality—

Myself—the Term between—

Death but the Drift of Eastern Gray,

Dissolving into Dawn away,

Before the West begin—

’Tis Kingdoms—afterward—they say—

In perfect—pauseless Monarchy—

Whose Prince—is Son of None—

Himself—His Dateless Dynasty—

Himself—Himself diversify—

In Duplicate divine—

’Tis Miracle before Me—then—

’Tis Miracle behind—between—

A Crescent in the Sea—

With Midnight to the North of Her—

And Midnight to the South of Her—

And Maelstrom—in the Sky—

Front 57

Because I could not stop for Death-

Back 57

Because I could not stop for Death –

He kindly stopped for me –

The Carriage held but just Ourselves –

And Immortality.

We slowly drove – He knew no haste

And I had put away

My labor and my leisure too,

For His Civility –

We passed the School, where Children strove

At Recess – in the Ring –

We passed the Fields of Gazing Grain –

We passed the Setting Sun –

Or rather – He passed Us –

The Dews drew quivering and Chill –

For only Gossamer, my Gown –

My Tippet – only Tulle –

We paused before a House that seemed

A Swelling of the Ground –

The Roof was scarcely visible –

The Cornice – in the Ground –

Since then – 'tis Centuries – and yet

Feels shorter than the Day

I first surmised the Horses' Heads

Were toward Eternity –

Front 58

After great pain, a formal feeling comes

Back 58

After great pain, a formal feeling comes –

The Nerves sit ceremonious, like Tombs –

The stiff Heart questions ‘was it He, that bore,’

And ‘Yesterday, or Centuries before’?

The Feet, mechanical, go round –

A Wooden way

Of Ground, or Air, or Ought –

Regardless grown,

A Quartz contentment, like a stone –

This is the Hour of Lead –

Remembered, if outlived,

As Freezing persons, recollect the Snow –

First – Chill – then Stupor – then the letting go –

Front 59

A narrow Fellow in the Grass

Back 59

A narrow fellow in the grass

Occasionally rides;

You may have met him—did you not

His notice sudden is,

The grass divides as with a comb,

A spotted shaft is seen,

And then it closes at your feet,

And opens further on.

He likes a boggy acre,

A floor too cool for corn,

But when a boy and barefoot,

I more than once at noon

Have passed, I thought, a whip lash,

Unbraiding in the sun,

When stooping to secure it,

It wrinkled and was gone.

Several of nature’s people

I know, and they know me;

I feel for them a transport

Of cordiality.

But never met this fellow,

Attended or alone,

Without a tighter breathing,

And zero at the bone.

Front 60

A Bird came down the Walk-

Back 60

A Bird came down the Walk—

He did not know I saw—

He bit an Angleworm in halves

And ate the fellow, raw,

And then he drank a Dew

From a convenient Grass—

And then hopped sidewise to the Wall

To let a Beetle pass—

He glanced with rapid eyes

That hurried all around—

They looked like frightened Beads, I thought—

He stirred his Velvet Head

Like one in danger, Cautious,

I offered him a Crumb

And he unrolled his feathers

And rowed him softer home—

Than Oars divide the Ocean,

Too silver for a seam—

Or Butterflies, off Banks of Noon

Leap, plashless as they swim.