Fame of Myself, to justify, All other Plaudit be Superfluous — An Incense Beyond Necessity —

Fame of Myself to lack — Although My Name be else Supreme — This were an Honor honorless — A futile Diadem —

Summer for thee, grant I may be When Summer days are flown! Thy music still, when Whipporwill And Oriole — are done!

For thee to bloom, I'll skip the tomb And row my blossoms o'er! Pray gather me — Anemone — Thy flower — forevermore!

In this short Life That only lasts an hour How much — how little — is Within our power

Contained in this short Life Are magical extents The soul returning soft at night To steal securer thence

As Children strictest kept Turn soonest to the sea Whose nameless Fathoms slink away Beside infinity

Within my Garden, rides a Bird Upon a single Wheel — Whose spokes a dizzy Music make As 'twere a travelling Mill —

He never stops, but slackens Above the Ripest Rose — Partakes without alighting And praises as he goes,

Till every spice is tasted — And then his Fairy Gig Reels in remoter atmospheres — And I rejoin my Dog,

And He and I, perplex us If positive, 'twere we — Or bore the Garden in the Brain This Curiosity —

But He, the best Logician, Refers my clumsy eye — To just vibrating Blossoms! An Exquisite Reply!

Dreams — are well — but Waking's better, If One wake at morn — If One wake at Midnight — better — Dreaming — of the Dawn —

One Joy of so much anguish Sweet nature has for me I shun it as I do Despair Or dear iniquity —

Why Birds, a Summer morning Before the Quick of Day Should stab my ravished spirit With Dirks of Melody

Is part of an inquiry That will receive reply When Flesh and Spirit sunder In Death's Immediately —

Where Thou art — that — is Home — Cashmere — or Calvary — the same — Degree — or Shame — I scarce esteem Location's Name — So I may Come —

What Thou dost — is Delight — Bondage as Play — be sweet — Imprisonment — Content — And Sentence — Sacrament — Just We two — meet —

Where Thou art not — is Woe — Tho' Bands of Spices — row — What Thou dost not — Despair — Tho' Gabriel — praise me — Sire —

I make His Crescent fill or lack — His Nature is at Full Or Quarter — as I signify — His Tides — do I control —