Poesie in lingua straniera

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To hear an Oriole sing
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!"

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I think the Hemlock likes to stand
Upon a Marge of Snow -
It suits his own Austerity -
And satisfies an awe
That men, must slake in Wilderness -
And in the Desert - cloy -
An hunger for the Hoar, the Bald -
Lapland's - necessity -

The Hemlock's nature thrives - on cold -
The Gnash of Northern winds
Is sweetest nutriment - to him -
His best Norwegian Wines -

To satin Races - he is nought -
But Children on the Don,
Beneath his Tabernacles, play,
And Dnieper Wrestlers, run.

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Departed - to the Judgment -
A Mighty - Afternoon -
Great Clouds - like Ushers - leaning -
Creation - looking on -
The Flesh - Surrendered - Cancelled -
The Bodiless - begun -
Two Worlds - like Audiences - disperse -
And leave the Soul - alone.

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Sweet - You forgot - but I remembered
Every time - for Two -
So that the Sum be never hindered
Through Decay of You -
Say if I erred? Accuse my Farthings -
Blame the little Hand
Happy it be for You - a Beggar's -
Seeking More - to spend -

Just to be Rich - to waste my Guineas
On so Best a Heart -
Just to be Poor - for Barefoot Vision
You - Sweet - Shut me out.

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The Martyr Poets - did not tell -
But wrought their Pang in syllable -
That when their mortal name be numb -
Their mortal fate - encourage Some -
The Martyr Painters - never spoke -
Bequeathing - rather - to their Work -
That when their conscious fingers cease -
Some seek in Art - the Art of Peace -.

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I fear a Man of frugal Speech -
I fear a Silent Man -
Haranguer - I can overtake -
Or Babbler - entertain -
But He who weigheth - While the Rest -
Expend their furthest pound -
Of this Man - I am wary -
I fear that He is Grand.

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I had no Cause to be awake -
My Best - was gone to sleep -
And Morn a new politeness took -
And failed to wake them up -
But called the others - clear -
And passed their Curtains by -
Sweet Morning - When I oversleep -
Knock - Recollect - to Me -

I looked at Sunrise - Once -
And then I looked at Them -
And wishfulness in me arose -
For Circumstance the same -

'Twas such an Ample Peace -
It could not hold a Sigh -
'Twas Sabbath - with the Bells divorced -
'Twas Sunset - all the Day -

So choosing but a Gown -
And taking but a Prayer -
The only Raiment I should need -
I struggled - and was There.

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Some such Butterfly be seen
On Brazilian Pampas -
Just at noon - no later - Sweet -
Then - the License closes -
Some such Rose - express - and pass -
Subject to Your Plucking -
As the Stars - You knew last Night -
Foreigners - This Morning.

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I took my Power in my Hand -
And went against the World -
'Twas not so much as David - had -
But I - was twice as bold -
I aimed by Pebble - but Myself
Was all the one that fell -
Was it Goliath - was too large -
Or was myself - too small?

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The Province of the Saved
Should be the Art - To Save -
Through Skill obtained in Themselves -
The Science of the Grave
No Man can understand
But He that hath endured
The Dissolution - in Himself -
That Man - be qualified

To qualify Despair
To Those who failing new -
Mistake Defeat for Death - Each time -
Till acclimated - to.