Success is counted sweetest

SUCCESS is counted sweetest 
By those who ne’er succeed. 
To comprehend a nectar 
Requires sorest need. 
   
Not one of all the purple host         5
Who took the flag to-day 
Can tell the definition, 
So clear, of victory, 
   
As he, defeated, dying, 
On whose forbidden ear         10
The distant strains of triumph 
Break, agonized and clear.



Our share of night to bare


OUR share of night to bear, 
Our share of morning, 
Our blank in bliss to fill, 
Our blank in scorning. 
   
Here a star, and there a star,         5
Some lose their way. 
Here a mist, and there a mist, 
Afterwards—day!



SOUL, wilt thou toss again? 

SOUL, wilt thou toss again? 
By just such a hazard 
Hundreds have lost, indeed, 
But tens have won an all. 
   
Angels’ breathless ballot         5
Lingers to record thee; 
Imps in eager caucus 
Raffle for my soul. 



IF I can stop one heart from breaking, 

IF I can stop one heart from breaking, 
I shall not live in vain; 
If I can ease one life the aching, 
Or cool one pain, 
Or help one fainting robin         5
Unto his nest again, 
I shall not live in vain.



MUCH madness is divinest sense 

MUCH madness is divinest sense 
To a discerning eye; 
Much sense the starkest madness. 
’T is the majority 
In this, as all, prevails.         5
Assent, and you are sane; 
Demur,—you ’re straightway dangerous, 
And handled with a chain.

THE HEART asks pleasure first


THE HEART asks pleasure first, 
And then, excuse from pain; 
And then, those little anodynes 
That deaden suffering; 
   
And then, to go to sleep;         5
And then, if it should be 
The will of its Inquisitor, 
The liberty to die.



WHEN night is almost done

WHEN night is almost done, 
And sunrise grows so near 
That we can touch the spaces, 
It ’s time to smooth the hair 
   
And get the dimples ready,         5
And wonder we could care 
For that old faded midnight 
That frightened but an hour. 



A FACE devoid of love or grace

A FACE devoid of love or grace, 
A hateful, hard, successful face, 
  A face with which a stone 
Would feel as thoroughly at ease 
As were they old acquaintances,—         5
  First time together thrown. 



VICTORY comes late, 

VICTORY comes late, 
And is held low to freezing lips 
Too rapt with frost 
To take it. 
How sweet it would have tasted,         5
Just a drop! 
Was God so economical? 
His table’s spread too high for us 
Unless we dine on tip-toe. 
Crumbs fit such little mouths,         10
Cherries suit robins; 
The eagle’s golden breakfast 
Strangles them. 
God keeps his oath to sparrows, 
Who of little love         15
Know how to starve! 


SURGEONS must be very careful 

SURGEONS must be very careful 
When they take the knife! 
Underneath their fine incisions 
Stirs the culprit,—Life! 

WE outgrow love like other things 


WE outgrow love like other things 
  And put it in the drawer, 
Till it an antique fashion shows 
  Like costumes grandsires wore



COME slowly, Eden! 

COME slowly, Eden! 
Lips unused to thee, 
Bashful, sip thy jasmines, 
As the fainting bee, 
   
Reaching late his flower,         5
Round her chamber hums, 
Counts his nectars—enters, 
And is lot in balms!



THE MOON is distant from the sea

THE MOON is distant from the sea, 
And yet with amber hands 
She leads him, docile as a boy, 
Along appointed sands. 
   
He never misses a degree;         5
Obedient to her eye, 
He comes just so far toward the town, 
Just so far goes away. 
   
Oh, Signor, thine the amber hand, 
And mine the distant sea,—         10
Obedient to the least command 
Thine eyes impose on me.


POOR little heart! 

POOR little heart! 
      Did they forget thee? 
Then dinna care! Then dinna care! 
   
      Proud little heart! 
      Did they forsake thee?         5
Be debonair! Be debonair! 
   
      Frail little heart! 
      I would not break thee: 
Could’st credit me? Could’st credit me? 
   
      Gay little heart!         10
      Like morning glory 
Thou’ll wilted be; thou’ll wilted be! 

I DIED for beauty, but was scarce 


I DIED for beauty, but was scarce 
Adjusted in the tomb, 
When one who died for truth was lain 
In an adjoining room. 
   
He questioned softly why I failed?         5
“For beauty,” I replied. 
“And I for truth,—the two are one; 
We brethren are,” he said. 
   
And so, as kinsmen met a night, 
We talked between the rooms,         10
Until the moss had reached our lips, 
And covered up our names. 



I LIKE a look of agony

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.         5
Impossible to feign 
The beads upon the forehead 
By homely anguish strung. 




I WENT to thank her


I WENT to thank her, 
But she slept; 
Her bed a funnelled stone, 
With nosegays at the head and foot, 
That travellers had thrown,         5
   
Who went to thank her; 
But she slept. 
’T was short to cross the sea 
To look upon her like, alive, 
But turning back ’t was slow.         10


GOD permits industrious angels 

GOD permits industrious angels 
Afternoons to play. 
I met one,—forgot my school-mates, 
All, for him, straightway. 
   
God calls home the angels promptly         5
At the setting sun; 
I missed mine. How dreary marbles, 
After playing Crown! 



BECAUSE I could not stop for Death

BECAUSE I could not stop for Death, 
He kindly stopped for me; 
The carriage held but just ourselves 
And Immortality. 
   
We slowly drove, he knew no haste,         5
And I had put away 
My labor, and my leisure too, 
For his civility. 
   
We passed the school where children played 
At wrestling in a ring;         10
We passed the fields of gazing grain, 
We passed the setting sun. 
   
We paused before a house that seemed 
A swelling of the ground; 
The roof was scarcely visible,         15
The cornice but a mound. 
   
Since then ’t is centuries; but each 
Feels shorter than the day 
I first surmised the horses’ heads 
Were toward eternity.         20