When I tell
my sweet Mrs
Holland that
I have lost
another friend, she
will not wonder
I do not write,
but that I raise
my Heart to a
dropping syllable –
Dear Mr Lord
has left us –
After a brief
unconsciousness,
a Sleep that
ended with a smile,
so his Nieces tell
￤
us, he hastened
away, ″seen,″ we trust,
″of Angels″ – ″who
knows that secret
deep″ – ″Alas, not I –″
Forgive the Tears
that fell for few –
but that few too
many, for was not
each a World?
Your last dear
words seemed
stronger, and
smiling in the
feeling that you
were to be, this
latest sorrow came –
I hope your own
￤
are with you, and
may not be taken –
I hope there is
no Dart, advan–
cing or in store –
at rest,
The Robin locks
her Nest, and
tries her Wings –
She does not
know a Route
But puts her
Craft about
For rumored
springs –
She does not
ask for Noon –
￤
ask for Boon –
Crumbless and
homeless, of but
one request –
The Birds she
lost –
Do you remember
writing to us
you should ′′write
with the Robins′′?
They are writing
now, their Desk
in every passing
Tree, but the
Magic of Mates that
cannot hear them,
makes their Letters
￤
dim –
Later –
Vinnie de–
scribed it all –
The going up to
take Medicine
and forgetting to
return – How many
times I have
taken that very
Medicine myself,
with lasting benefit!
The Jelly and the
pink Cheek, the
little clutchings
at her frame, to
make the grace
secure, that had
￤
too many Wings –
Vinnie omitted
nothing, and
I followed her
around, never
hearing enough
of that mysterious
interview, for was
it not a lisp
from the irrevo–
cable?
Within that little
Hive
Such Hints of
Honey lay
As made Reality
a Dream
And Dreams, Reality –
Emily