There was the Door to which I found no Key
There was the Veil through which I might not see
Some little talk awhile of Me and Thee
There was–and then no more of Thee and Me

Yon rising Moon that looks for us again
How oft hereafter will she wax and wane
How oft hereafter rising look for us
Through this same Garden–and for one in vain

Ah, Love! could you and I with Him conspire
To grasp this sorry Scheme of Things entire
Would not we shatter it to bits–and then
Re-mould it nearer to the Heart’s Desire

I think the Vessel, that that with fugitive
Articulatilon answer’d, once did live
And merry-make; and the cold lip I kiss’d
How many kisses might it take – and give

For some we loved, the loveliest and the best
That from his Vintage rolling Time hath prest
Have drunk their Cup a Round or two before
And one by one crept silently to rest

Some for the Glories of This World; and some
Sigh for the Prophet’s Paradise to come
Ah, take the Cash, and let the Credit go
Nor heed the rumble of a distant Drum

With them the seed of Wisdom did I sow
And with mine own hand wrought to make it grow
And this was all the Harvest that I reap’d
I came like Water, and like Wind I go

The Revelations of Devout and Learn’d
Who rose before us, and as Prophets burn’d
Are all but Stories, which, awoke from Sleep
They told their comrades, and to Sleep return’d

And if the Wine you drink, the Lip you press
End in the Nothing all Things end in – Yes
Then fancy while Thou art, Thou art but what
Thou shalt be- Nothing- Thou shalt not be less

And we that now make merry in the room they left
And summer dresses in new bloom
Ourselves must we beneath the couch of Earth
Descend, ourselves to make a couch for whom?