Mad for Poetry

  I breathed enough to learn the trick,    And now, removed from air,    I simulate the breath so well,    That one, to be quite sure     The lungs are stirless,…

I had been hungry all the years;    My noon had come, to dine;    I, trembling, drew the table near,    And touched the curious wine.     ‘T was this on…

    How still the bells in steeples stand,    Till, swollen with the sky,    They leap upon their silver feet    In frantic melody!

How dare the robins sing,    When men and women hear    Who since they went to their account    Have settled with the year! —    Paid all that life had earned    In…

Hope is a subtle glutton;    He feeds upon the fair;    And yet, inspected closely,    What abstinence is there!     His is the halcyon table    That never seats but one,    And whatsoever…

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…

High from the earth I heard a bird;    He trod upon the trees    As he esteemed them trifles,    And then he spied a breeze,    And situated softly    Upon a pile…

Heart, we will forget him!    You and I, to-night!    You may forget the warmth he gave,    I will forget the light.     When you have done, pray tell me,    That…

Heart not so heavy as mine,    Wending late home,    As it passed my window    Whistled itself a tune, —     A careless snatch, a ballad,    A ditty of the street;    Yet…