A Night - there lay the Days between -Commenta
The Day that was Before -
And Day that was Behind - were One -
And now - 'twas Night - was here -
Slow - Night - that must be watched away -
As Grains upon a shore -
Too imperceptible to note -
Till it be Night - no more.
I am alive - I guess -Commenta
The Branches on my Hand
Are full of Morning Glory -
And at my finger's end -
The Carmine - tingles warm -
And if I hold a Glass
Across my Mouth - it blurs it -
Physician's - proof of Breath -
I am alive - because
I am not in a Room -
The Parlor - Commonly - it is -
So Visitors may come -
And lean - and view it sidewise -
And add "How cold - it grew" -
And "Was it conscious - when it stepped
In Immortality? "
I am alive - because
I do not own a House -
Entitled to myself - precise -
And fitting no one else -
And marked my Girlhood's name -
So Visitors may know
Which Door is mine - and not not mistake -
And try another Key -
How good - to be alive!
How infinite - to be
Alive - two-fold - The Birth I had -
And this - besides, in Thee!
The Red - Blaze - is the Morning -Commenta
The Violet - is Noon -
The Yellow - Day - is falling -
And after that - is None -
But Miles of Sparks - at Evening -
Reveal the Width that burned -
The Territory Argent - that never yet - consumed.
A Wife - at Daybreak - I shall be -Commenta
Sunrise - Hast Thou a Flag for me?
At Midnight - I am yet a Maid -
How short it takes to make it Bride -
Then - Midnight - I have passed from Thee -
Unto the East - and Victory.
Midnight - Good Night - I hear them Call -
The Angels bustle in the Hall -
Softly - my Future climbs the Stair -
I fumble at my Childhood's Prayer -
So soon to be a Child - no more -
Eternity - I'm coming - Sir -
Master - I've seen the Face - before.
I know where Wells grow - Droughtless Wells -Commenta
Deep dug - for Summer days -
Where Mosses go no more away -
And Pebble - safely plays -
It's made of Fathoms - and a Belt -
A Belt of jagged Stone -
Inlaid with Emerald - half way down -
And Diamonds - jumbled on -
It has no Bucket - Were I rich
A Bucket I would buy -
I'm often thirsty - but my lips
Are so high up - You see -
I read in an Old fashioned Book
That People "thirst no more" -
The Wells have Buckets to them there -
It must mean that - I'm sure -
Shall We remember Parching - then?
Those Waters sound so grand -
I think a little Well - like Mine -
Dearer to understand.