It’s all I have to bring today— This, and my heart beside— This, and my heart, and all the fields— And all the meadows wide— Be sure you count—should I forget Someone the sum could tell— This, and my heart, and all the bees Which in the clover dwell.
Yesterday is History,'Tis so far awayYesterday is Poetry'Tis Philosophy. Yesterday is MysteryWhere it is Today.While we shrewdly speculateFlutter both away.
Dear March, come in!
How glad I am!
I looked for you before.
Put down your hat-
You must have walked-
How out of breath you are!
As summer into autumn slips
And yet we sooner say
"The summer" than "the autumn," lest
We turn the sun away.
Ourselves were wed one summer - dear
Your Vision - was in June
And when Your little Lifetime failed,
I wearied - too - of mine