'Tis Heavy and 'tis Light.
When he depart, an Emptiness
Is the prevailing Freight.
And put it in the Drawer -
Till it an Antique fashion shows -
Like Costumes Grandsires wore.
Who till they died, did not alive become -
Who had they lived, had died but when
They died, Vitality begun.
With half a smile, and half a spurn,
As Housewives do, a Fly.
If I could see you in a year,
I'd wind the months in balls -
And put them each in separate Drawers,
For fear the numbers fuse -
If only Centuries, delayed,
I'd count them on my Hand,
Subtracting, till my fingers dropped
Into Van Diemen's Land.
If certain, when this life was out -
That yours and mine should be
I'd toss it yonder, like a Rind,
And take Eternity -
But, now, uncertain of the length
Of this, that is between,
It goads me, like the Goblin Bee -
That will not state - its sting.
Had I Art -
Impregnable my Fortress
Unto all Heart -
But since Myself - assault Me -
How have I peace
Except by subjugating
Consciousness?
And since We're mutual Monarch
How this be
Except by Abdication -
Me - of Me?
It yet remains to see
If Immortality unveil
A third event to me
So huge, so hopeless to conceive
As these that twice befell.
Parting is all we know of heaven
And all we need of hell.
Till we are asked to rise
And then if we are true to plan
Our statures touch the skies -
The Heroism we recite
Would be a normal thing
Did not ourselves the Cubits warp
For fear to be a King -
