Some chance moment life confesses That her insect nothingnesses Carry honey with their stings, But ’tis only to their kings-- Those who know how best to use them, Those who know how to refuse them-- That the secret is made free, And souls are loosed from tyranny.
Beyond the far horizon’s farthest bound A farther boundary lies; No spirit wing can reach the utmost round, No spirit eyes.
The soul has limitations such as space, Such as eternity; The farthest star to which thou setst thy face Belongs to thee.
What is it like, I wonder, to roam Down through the tall grass hidden quite? To feel very far away from home When the dear house is out of sight?
To want to play with the broken moon In the star garden of the skies? To sleep through twilight eves of June Beneath the sound of lullabies?
To hold up hurts for all to see, Sob at imaginary harms, To clasp in welcome a father’s knee, And fit so well to a mother’s arms?
To have life bounded by one dull road, A wood and a pond, and to feel no lack, To gaze with pleasure upon a toad, And caress a mud-turtle’s horny back?
To follow the robin’s cheerful hop With all the salt small hands can hold, And plead in vain for it to stop-- What is it like to be three years old?
Ah, once I knew, but ’twas long ago; I try to recall it in vain--in vain! And now I know I shall never know What it is to be a child again.
Sometime, I fear, but God alone knows when, Mine eyes shall gaze on your unseeing eyes, On your unheeding ears shall fall my cries, Your clasp shall cease, your soul go from my ken, Your great heart be a fire burned out.--Ah, then, What shall remain for me beneath the skies Of glad, or good, or beautiful, or wise, That can relume and thrill my life again?
This shall remain, a love that cannot fail, A life that joys in your great joy, yet grieves In memory of sweet days fled too soon. Sadness divine! as when November pale Sits broken-hearted ’mong her withered leaves, And feels the wind about her warm as June.
When airy joy doth hail me I follow on behind, And lest my feet should fail me I follow on the wind; I hear her lightsome laughter Go floating past the door, And swift I follow after As she flies on before.
When I am faint and falling, And lose her skyey wings, I hear her liquid calling, And feel the charm she flings On all the earth and o’er me, Then eagerly I rise, And see her skirts before me Go glittering up the skies.