CVII

   
AMBITION cannot find him,      
Affection doesn’t know      
How many leagues of Nowhere      
Lie between them now.      
Yesterday undistinguished—           5   
Eminent to-day,      
For our mutual honor—      
Immortality!

CVIII

   
EDEN is that old-fashioned House      
We dwell in every day,      
Without suspecting our abode      
Until we drive away.      
How fair, on looking back, the Day           5   
We sauntered from the door,      
Unconscious our returning      
Discover it no more.

CIX

   
CANDOR, my tepid Friend,      
Come not to play with me!      
The Myrrhs and Mochas of the Mind      
Are its Iniquity.

CX

   
SPEECH is a symptom of affection,      
And Silence one,      
The perfectest communication      
Is heard of none—      
Exists and its endorsement           5   
Is had within—      
Behold! said the Apostle,      
Yet had not seen.

CXI

   
WHO were “the Father and the Son”—      
We pondered when a child,      
And what had they to do with us—      
And when portentous told      
With inference appalling,           5   
By Childhood fortified,      
We thought, “at least they are no worse      
Than they have been described.”      
     
Who are “the Father and the Son”—      
Did we demand today,           10   
“The Father and the Son” himself      
Would doubtless specify,      
But had they the felicity      
When we desired to know,      
We better Friends had been, perhaps,           15   
Than time ensue to be.      
     
We start, to learn that we believe      
But once, entirely—      
Belief, it does not fit so well      
When altered frequently.           20   
We blush, that Heaven if we achieve,      
Event ineffable—      
We shall have shunned, until ashamed      
To own the Miracle.

CXII

   
THAT Love is all there is,      
Is all we know of Love;      
It is enough, the freight should be      
Proportioned to the groove.

CXIII

   
THE LUXURY to apprehend      
The luxury ’t would be      
To look at thee a single time,      
An Epicure of me,      
In whatsoever Presence, makes,           5   
Till, for a further food      
I scarcely recollect to starve,      
So first am I supplied.      
The luxury to meditate      
The luxury it was           10   
To banquet on thy Countenance,      
A sumptuousness bestows      
On plainer days,      
Whose table, far as      
Certainty can see,           15   
Is laden with a single crumb—      
The consciousness of Thee.

CXIV

   
THE SEA said “Come” to the Brook,      
The Brook said “Let me grow!”      
The Sea said “Then you will be a Sea—      
I want a brook, Come now!”

CXV

   
ALL I may, if small,      
Do it not display      
Larger for its Totalness?      
’T is economy      
To bestow a world           5   
And withhold a star,      
Utmost is munificence;      
Less, though larger, Poor.

CXVI

   
LOVE reckons by itself alone,      
“As large as I” relate the Sun      
To one who never felt it blaze,      
Itself is all the like it has.