Am I kin to Sorrow,
That so oft
Falls the knocker of my door——
Neither loud nor soft,
...
I cannot but remember
When the year grows old --
October -- November --
How she disliked the cold!
...
We were very tired, we were very merry --
We had gone back and forth all night upon the ferry.
It was bare and bright, and smelled like a stable --
But we looked into a fire, we leaned across a table,
...
No hawk hangs over in this air:
The urgent snow is everywhere.
The wing adroiter than a sail
Must lean away from such a gale,
...
When reeds are dead and a straw to thatch the marshes,
And feathered pampas-grass rides into the wind
Like aged warriors westward, tragic, thinned
Of half their tribe, and over the flattened rushes,
...
Give away her gowns,
Give away her shoes;
She has no more use
For her fragrant gowns;
...
And if I loved you Wednesday,
Well, what is that to you?
I do not love you Thursday -
So much is true.
...
The room is full of you!—As I came in
And closed the door behind me, all at once
A something in the air, intangible,
Yet stiff with meaning, struck my senses sick!—
...
Thou art not lovelier than lilacs,—no,
Nor honeysuckle; thou art not more fair
Than small white single poppies,—I can bear
Thy beauty; though I bend before thee, though
...