New days are dear, and cannot be unloved,
Though in deep grief we mourn, and cling to death;
Who has not known, in living on, a breath
Of infinite joy that has life's rapture proved?

If I have thought that in this rainbow world
The best we see was but a preface given
Of infinite greater tints in heaven,
And life or no, heaven yet would be unfurl'd, -

I did belie the soul-wide joys of earth,
And feelings deep as lights that dwell in seas.
Can heaven itself outlove such depths as these?
Live on! Life holds more than we dream of worth!

I.
Would it were I had been false, not you!
I that am nothing, not you that are all
I, never the worse for a touch or two
On my speckled hide; not you, the pride
Of the day, my swan, that a first fleck’s fall
On her wonder of white must unswan, undo!

II.
I had dipped in life’s struggle and, out again,
Bore specks of it here, there, easy to see,
When I found my swan and the cure was plain;
The dull turned bright as I caught your white
On my bosom: you saved me saved in vain
If you ruined yourself, and all through me!

III.
Yes, all through the speckled beast that I am,
Who taught you to stoop; you gave me yourself,
And bound your soul by the vows that damn:
Since on better thought you break, as you ought,
Vows words, no angel set down,...

("Je suis la Charité.")

[February, 1837.]


"Lo! I am Charity," she cries,
"Who waketh up before the day;
While yet asleep all nature lies,
God bids me rise and go my way."

How fair her glorious features shine,
Whereon the hand of God hath set
An angel's attributes divine,
With all a woman's sweetness met.

Above the old man's couch of woe
She bows her forehead, pure and even.
There's nothing fairer here below,
There's nothing grander up in heaven,

Than when caressingly she stands
(The cold hearts wakening 'gain their beat),
And holds within her holy hands
The little children's naked feet.

To every den of want and toil
She goes, and leaves the poorest fed;
Leaves wine and bread, and genial oil,<...

I.

    I lang hae thought, my youthfu' friend,
        A something to have sent you,
    Though it should serve nae ither end
        Than just a kind memento;
    But how the subject-theme may gang,
        Let time and chance determine;
    Perhaps it may turn out a sang,
        Perhaps, turn out a sermon.

II.

    Ye'll try the world soon, my lad,
        And, Andrew dear, believe me,
    Ye'll find mankind an unco squad,
        And muckle they may grieve ye:
    For care and trouble set your thought,
        Ev'n when your end's attain'd;
    And a' your views may come to nought,
        Where ev'ry nerve is strained.

III.

    I'll no say men are villains a';
        The real, harden'd wicked,
    Wha...

(For Helen Parry Eden)



"Hail Mary, full of grace," the Angel saith.
Our Lady bows her head, and is ashamed;
She has a Bridegroom Who may not be named,
Her mortal flesh bears Him Who conquers death.
Now in the dust her spirit grovelleth;
Too bright a Sun before her eyes has flamed,
Too fair a herald joy too high proclaimed,
And human lips have trembled in God's breath.

O Mother-Maid, thou art ashamed to cover
With thy white self, whereon no stain can be,
Thy God, Who came from Heaven to be thy Lover,
Thy God, Who came from Heaven to dwell in thee.
About thy head celestial legions hover,
Chanting the praise of thy humility.

    "Everybody in the world is frightened of getting cut."
    Charles Manson

    I
    The image complete
    - collapsing corpses, rag dolls
    with skulls shot away ...
    ruby-red blood spurting
    slipstick/eyeshadow/mascara
    all so reptilian replete.

    II
    The long fingers of the pianist
    playing rifle fire to a
    captive audience,
    stiletto tones;
    the trance effect,
    precedes a cobra's strike,
    summer without smoke.

    III
    A glass of absinthe
    - the Degas painting,
    Marc Lepine measuring out his vial,
    measuring the worth of a single
    woman and finding her long on the call,
    cartridge shells exploding
    filaments of smoke
    (long and blue)...

(See Note 41)

As on I drive, in my heart joy dwells
Of Sabbath silence with sound of bells.
The sun lifts all that is living, growing,
God's love itself in its symbol showing.
To church pass people from near and far,
Soon psalms ascend from the door ajar.
- Good cheer! Your greeting hailed more than me,
But that in hastening you failed to see.

Here's goodly company with me riding,
Though oft they cunningly keep in hiding;
But when you saw me so Sunday-glad,
It was because of the mates I had.
And when you heard me so softly singing,
The tones attuned to their hearts were ringing.

One soul is here of such priceless worth,
For me she offered her all on earth;
Yes, she who smiled in my boat storm-driven,
And blanched not, braving...

Lonely and cold and fierce I keep my way,
Scourge of the lands, companioned by the storm,
Tossing to heaven my frontlet, wild and gray,
Mateless, yet conscious ever of a warm
And brooding presence close to mine all day.

What is this alien thing, so near, so far,
Close to my life always, but blending never?
Hemmed in by walls whose crystal gates unbar
Not at the instance of my strong endeavor
To pierce the stronghold where their secrets are?

Buoyant, impalpable, relentless, thin,
Rise the clear, mocking walls. I strive in vain
To reach the pulsing heart that beats within,
Or with persistence of a cold disdain,
To quell the gladness which I may not win.

Forever sundered and forever one,
Linked by a bond whose spell I may not guess,
Our hos...

Take no thought for the morrow, the Saviour hath said,
And he spake as ne'er man spake before;
"He carried our sorrows," "was acquainted with grief,"
And knew well what the heart could endure.

Let the morrow take care for the things of itself,
And not by its weight crush thee down;
Sufficient to-day is the evil thereof,
Let the ills of to-morrow alone.

Neither boast of to-morrow, for what is thy life,
But a vapor that floateth away;
Like a tale quickly told, or a dream of the night,
That departs at the breaking of day.

Be not like the man who once said in his heart,
"I have goods that are laid by for years;"
But scarce had he planned how they best might be stored,
When he dies and leaves all to his heirs.

Neither dread<...