When Katie walks, this simple pair accompany her side, When Katie runs unwearied they follow on the road, When Katie kneels, their loving hands still clasp her pious knee - Ah! Katie! Smile at Fortune, with two so knit to thee!
It can't be "Summer"! That - got through! It's early - yet - for "Spring"! There's that long town of White - to cross - Before the Blackbirds sing! It can't be "Dying"! It's too Rouge - The Dead shall go in White - So Sunset shuts my question down With Cuffs of Chrysolite!
She sweeps with many-colored Brooms - And leaves the Shreds behind - Oh Housewife in the Evening West - Come back, and dust the Pond! You dropped a Purple Ravelling in - You dropped an Amber Thread - And how you've littered all the East With Duds of Emerald!
And still, she plies her spotted Brooms, And still the Aprons fly, Till Brooms fade softly into stars - And then I come away.
Is it true, dear Sue? Are there two? I should'nt like to come For fear of joggling Him! If you could shut him up In a Coffee Cup, Or tie him to a pin Till I got in - Or make him fast To "Toby's" fist - Hist! Whist! I'd come!
Savior! I've no one else to tell - And so I trouble thee. I am the one forgot thee so - Dost thou remember me? Nor, for myself, I came so far - That were the little load - I brought thee the imperial Heart I had not strength to hold - The Heart I carried in my own - Till mine too heavy grew - Yet - strangest - heavier since it went - Is it too large for you?
Safe in their Alabaster Chambers - Untouched by Morning And untouched by Noon - Sleep the meek members of the Resurrection - Rafter of satin, And Roof of stone.
Light laughs the breeze In her Castle above them - Babbles the Bee in a stolid Ear, Pipe the Sweet Birds in ignorant cadence - Ah, what sagacity perished here!
I taste a liquor never brewed - From Tankards scooped in Pearl - Not all the Frankfort Berries Yield such an Alcohol! Inebriate of air - am I - And Debauchee of Dew - Reeling - thro endless summer days - From inns of Molten Blue -
When "Landlords" turn the drunken Bee Out of the Foxglove's door - When Butterflies - renounce their "drams" - I shall but drink the more!
Till Seraphs swing their snowy Hats - And Saints - to windows run - To see the little Tippler From Manzanilla come!
Come slowly - Eden! Lips unused to Thee - Bashful - sip thy Jessamines - As the fainting Bee - Reaching late his flower, Round her chamber hums - Counts his nectars - Enters - and is lost in Balms.
The Rose did caper on her cheek - Her Bodice rose and fell - Her pretty speech - like drunken men - Did stagger pitiful - Her fingers fumbled at her work - Her needle would not go - What ailed so smart a little Maid - It puzzled me to know -
Till opposite - I spied a cheek That bore another Rose - Just opposite - Another speech That like the Drunkard goes -
A Vest that like her Boddice, danced - To the immortal tune - Till those two troubled - little Clocks Ticked softly into one.