East Sacramento Poetry Society

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Location: Sacramento, California, United States

Monday, February 07, 2005

Poems for Monday, March 7

172

'Tis so much joy! 'Tis so much joy!
If I should fail, what poverty!
And yet, as poor as I,
Have ventured all upon a throw!
Have gained! Yes! Hesitated so --
This side the Victory!

Life is but Life! And Death, but Death!
Bliss is, but Bliss, and Breath but Breath!
And if indeed I fail,
At least, to know the worst, is sweet!
Defeat means nothing but Defeat,
No drearier, can befall!

And if I gain! Oh Gun at Sea!
Oh Bells, that in the Steeples be!
At first, repeat it slow!
For Heaven is a different thing,
Conjectured, and waked sudden in --
And might extinguish me!


241

I like a look of Agony,
Because I know it's true --
Men do not sham Convulsion,
Nor simulate, a Throe --

The Eyes glaze once -- and that is Death --
Impossible to feign
The Beads upon the Forehead
By homely Anguish strung.


443

I tie my Hat -- I crease my Shawl --
Life's little duties do -- precisely --
As the very least
Were infinite -- to me --

I put new Blossoms in the Glass --
And throw the old -- away --
I push a petal from my gown
That anchored there -- I weigh
The time 'twill be till six o'clock
I have so much to do --
And yet -- Existence -- some way back --
Stopped -- struck -- my tickling -- through --
We cannot put Ourself away
As a completed Man
Or Woman -- When the Errand's done
We came to Flesh -- upon --
There may be -- Miles on Miles of Nought --
Of Action -- sicker far --
To simulate -- is stinging work --
To cover what we are
From Science -- and from Surgery --
Too Telescopic Eyes
To bear on us unshaded --
For their -- sake -- not for Ours --
'Twould start them --
We -- could tremble --
But since we got a Bomb --
And held it in our Bosom --
Nay -- Hold it -- it is calm --

Therefore -- we do life's labor --
Though life's Reward -- be done --
With scrupulous exactness --
To hold our Senses -- on --


824

[first version]

The Wind begun to knead the Grass --
As Women do a Dough --
He flung a Hand full at the Plain --
A Hand full at the Sky --
The Leaves unhooked themselves from Trees --
And started all abroad --
The Dust did scoop itself like Hands --
And throw away the Road --
The Wagons -- quickened on the Street --
The Thunders gossiped low --
The Lightning showed a Yellow Head --
And then a livid Toe --
The Birds put up the Bars to Nests --
The Cattle flung to Barns --
Then came one drop of Giant Rain --
And then, as if the Hands
That held the Dams -- had parted hold --
The Waters Wrecked the Sky --
But overlooked my Father's House --
Just Quartering a Tree --

[second version]

The Wind begun to rock the Grass
With threatening Tunes and low --
He threw a Menace at the Earth --
A Menace at the Sky.

The Leaves unhooked themselves from Trees --
And started all abroad
The Dust did scoop itself like Hands
And threw away the Road.

The Wagons quickened on the Streets
The Thunder hurried slow --
The Lightning showed a Yellow Beak
And then a livid Claw.

The Birds put up the Bars to Nests --
The Cattle fled to Barns --
There came one drop of Giant Rain
And then as if the Hands

That held the Dams had parted hold
The Waters Wrecked the Sky,
But overlooked my Father's House --
Just quartering a Tree --