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There is no Frigate like a Book GAMPOOL There is no Frigate like a Book To take us Lands away Nor any Coursers like a Page Of prancing Poetry – This Traverse may the poorest take Without oppress of Toll – How frugal is the Chariot That bears I cannot live with You GAMPOOL I cannot live with You – It would be Life – And Life is over there – Behind the Shelf The Sexton keeps the Key to – Putting up Our Life – His Porcelain – Like a Cup – Discarded of the Housewife – Winter : My Secret GAMPOOL No indeed, not I; Perhaps some day, who knows? But not today; it froze, and blows and snows, And you’re too curious: fie! You want to hear it? well: Only, my secret’s mine, and I won’t tell. A Birthday GAMPOOL My heart is like a singing bird Whose nest is in a water'd shoot; My heart is like an apple-tree Whose boughs are bent with thickset fruit; My heart is like a rainbow Shut Out GAMPOOL A shadowless spirit kept the gate, Blank and unchanging like the grave. I peering through said: 'Let me have Some buds to cheer my outcast state.' He answered not. Up-Hill GAMPOOL But is there for the night a resting-place? A roof for when the slow dark hours begin. May not the darkness hide it from my face? You cannot miss that inn. After great pain, a formal feeling comes – GAMPOOL After great pain, a formal feeling comes – The Nerves sit ceremonious, like Tombs – The stiff Heart questions ‘was it He, that bore,’ And ‘Yesterday, or Centuries before’? There's a certain Slant of light GAMPOOL There's a certain Slant of light, Winter Afternoons – That oppresses, like the Heft Of Cathedral Tunes – Heavenly Hurt, it gives us – We can find no scar, But internal difference – Where the Meanings, No, Thank You, John GAMPOOL I never said I loved you, John: Why will you tease me, day by day, And wax a weariness to think upon With always "do" and "pray"? A Pause GAMPOOL At length there came the step upon the stair, Upon the lock the old familiar hand: Then first my spirit seemed to scent the air Of Paradise; then first the tardy sand Of time ran golden; and I felt my Mirage GAMPOOL The hope I dreamed of was a dream, Was but a dream; and now I wake, Exceeding comfortless, and worn, and old, For a dream's sake. Somewhere or Other GAMPOOL Somewhere or other there must surely be The face not seen, the voice not heard, The heart that not yet—never yet—ah me! Made answer to my word. It was not Death, for I stood up, GAMPOOL It was not Frost, for on my Flesh I felt Siroccos - crawl - Nor Fire - for just my marble feet Could keep a Chancel, cool - And yet, it tasted, like them all, The Figures I have seen Set orderly, for Burial The Soul selects her own Society GAMPOOL The Soul selects her own Society – Then – shuts the Door – To her divine Majority – Present no more – Unmoved – she notes the Chariots – pausing – At her low Gate – Unmoved – an Emperor be kneeling Upon A Bird, came down the Walk— GAMPOOL A Bird, came down the Walk - He did not know I saw - He bit an Angle Worm in halves And ate the fellow, raw, And then, he drank a Dew From a convenient Grass - And then hopped sidewise to the Wall I started Early – Took my Dog – GAMPOOL I started Early – Took my Dog – And visited the Sea – The Mermaids in the Basement Came out to look at me – And Frigates – in the Upper Floor Extended Hempen Hands – Presuming Me to be a Mouse – Aground A narrow Fellow in the Grass GAMPOOL A narrow Fellow in the Grass Occasionally rides – You may have met Him – did you not His notice sudden is – The Grass divides as with a Comb – A spotted shaft is seen – And then it closes at your feet A Summer Wish GAMPOOL Live all thy sweet life through, Sweet Rose, dew-sprent, Drop down thine evening dew To gather it anew When day is bright: I fancy thou wast meant Chiefly to give delight. Remember GAMPOOL Remember me when I am gone away, Gone far away into the silent land; When you can no more hold me by the hand, Nor I half turn to go yet turning stay. Much Madness is divinest Sense – GAMPOOL Much Madness is divinest Sense – To a discerning Eye – Much Sense – the starkest Madness – 'Tis the Majority In this, as all, prevail – Assent – and you are sane – Demur – you're straightway dangerous Passing away, Saith the World GAMPOOL Is the eye waxen dim, is the dark hair changing to grey That hath won neither laurel nor bay? I felt a Funeral, in my Brain GAMPOOL I felt a Funeral, in my Brain, And Mourners to and fro Kept treading – treading – till it seemed That Sense was breaking through – And when they all were seated, A Service, like a Drum – Kept beating – "Hope" is the thing with feathers – GAMPOOL "Hope" is the thing with feathers – That perches in the soul – And sings the tune without the words – And never stops – at all – And sweetest – in the Gale – is heard – And sore must be the storm – That A Light exists in Spring GAMPOOL A Light exists in Spring Not present on the Year At any other period – When March is scarcely here A Color stands abroad On Solitary Fields That Science cannot overtake But Human Nature feels. Because I could not stop for Death – GAMPOOL We slowly drove – He knew no haste And I had put away My labor and my leisure too, For His Civility – We passed the School, where Children strove At Recess – in the Ring – We passed the Fields of Gazing My Life had stood – a Loaded Gun – GAMPOOL My Life had stood – a Loaded Gun – In Corners – till a Day The Owner passed – identified – And carried Me away – And now We roam in Sovereign Woods – And now We hunt the Doe – And every time I speak for Echo GAMPOOL Come to me in the silence of the night; Come in the speaking silence of a dream; Come with soft rounded cheeks and eyes as bright As sunlight on a stream; Come back in tears, O memory, hope, love of May GAMPOOL I cannot tell you how it was, But this I know: it came to pass Upon a bright and sunny day When May was young; ah, pleasant May! Song : She sat and sang alway GAMPOOL She sat and sang alway By the green margin of a stream, Watching the fishes leap and play Beneath the glad sunbeam. Song : When I am dead, my dearest GAMPOOL When I am dead, my dearest, Sing no sad songs for me; Plant thou no roses at my head, Nor shady cypress tree: Be the green grass above me With showers and dewdrops wet; And if thou wilt, remember, And