LONGING - I envy seas whereon he rides
I envy seas whereon he rides, / I envy spokes of wheels
There's been a death in the opposite house
As lately as to-day.
I know it by the numb look
Such houses have alway.
The neighbors rustle in and out,
The doctor drives away.
A window opens like a pod,
Abrupt, mechanically;
Somebody flings a mattress out, --
The children hurry by;
They wonder if It died on that, --
I used to when a boy.
The minister goes stiffly in
As if the house were his,
And he owned all the mourners now,
And little boys besides;
And then the milliner, and the man
Of the appalling trade,
To take the measure of the house.
There'll be that dark parade
Of tassels and of coaches soon;
It's easy as a sign, --
The intuition of the news
In just a country town.
I envy seas whereon he rides, / I envy spokes of wheels
Before you thought of spring, / Except as a surmise,
I died for beauty, but was scarce / Adjusted in the tomb,
Success is counted sweetest / By those who ne'er succeed.