Poems for Monday, June 5

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743

The Birds reported from the South --
A News express to Me --
A spicy Charge, My little Posts --
But I am deaf -- Today --

The Flowers -- appealed -- a timid Throng --
I reinforced the Door --
Go blossom for the Bees -- I said --
And trouble Me -- no More --

The Summer Grace, for Notice strove --
Remote -- Her best Array --
The Heart -- to stimulate the Eye
Refused too utterly --

At length, a Mourner, like Myself,
She drew away austere --
Her frosts to ponder -- then it was
I recollected Her --

She suffered Me, for I had mourned --
I offered Her no word --
My Witness -- was the Crape I bore --
Her -- Witness -- was Her Dead --

Thenceforward -- We -- together dwelt --
I never questioned Her --
Our Contract
A Wiser Sympathy


930

There is a June when Corn is cut
And Roses in the Seed --
A Summer briefer than the first
But tenderer indeed

As should a Face supposed the Grave's
Emerge a single Noon
In the Vermilion that it wore
Affect us, and return --

Two Seasons, it is said, exist --
The Summer of the Just,
And this of Ours, diversified
With Prospect, and with Frost --

May not our Second with its First
So infinite compare
That We but recollect the one
The other to prefer?


1198

A soft Sea washed around the House
A Sea of Summer Air
And rose and fell the magic Planks
That sailed without a care --
For Captain was the Butterfly
For Helmsman was the Bee
And an entire universe
For the delighted crew.


1364

How know it from a Summer's Day?
Its Fervors are as firm --
And nothing in the Countenance
But scintillates the same --
Yet Birds examine it and flee --
And Vans without a name
Inspect the Admonition
And sunder as they came --


1715

Consulting summer's clock,
But half the hours remain.
I ascertain it with a shock --
I shall not look again.
The second half of joy
Is shorter than the first.
The truth I do not dare to know
I muffle with a jest.