You cannot put a Fire out -Commenta
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.
I'm sorry for the Dead - Today -Commenta
It's such congenial times
Old neighbors have at fences -
It's time o'year for Hay,
And Broad - Sunburned Acquaintance
Discourse between the Toil -
And laugh, a homely species
That makes the Fences smile -
It seems so straight to lie away
From all of the noise of Fields -
The Busy Carts - the fragrant Cocks -
The Mower's Metre - Steals -
A Trouble lest they're homesick -
Those Farmers - and their Wives -
Set separate from the Farming -
And all the Neighbor's lives -
A Wonder if the Sepulchre
Dont feel a lonesome way -
When Men - and Boys - and Carts - and June,
Go down the Fields to "Hay".
Mine - by the Right of the White Election!Commenta
Mine - by the Royal Seal!
Mine - by the Sign in the Scarlet prison -
Bars - cannot conceal!
Mine - here - in Vision - and in Veto!
Mine - by the Grave's Repeal -
Titled - Confirmed -
Mine - while Ages steal!
To put this World down, like a Bundle -Commenta
And walk steady, away,
Requires Energy - possibly Agony -
'Tis the Scarlet way
Trodden with straight renunciation
By the Son of God -
Later, his faint Confederates
Justify the Road -
Flavors of that old Crucifixion -
Filaments of Bloom, Pontius Pilate sowed -
Strong Clusters, from Barabbas'Tomb -
Sacrament, Saints partook before us -
Patent, every drop,
With the Brand of the Gentile Drinker
Who enforced the Cup.
To hear an Oriole singCommenta
May be a common thing -
Or only a divine.
It is not of the Bird
Who sings the same, unheard,
As unto Crowd -
The Fashion of the Ear
Attireth that it hear
In Dun, or fair -
So whether it be Rune,
Or whether it be din -
Is of within.
The "Tune is in the Tree -"
The Skeptic - showeth me -
"No Sir! In Thee!"