To thee Come I, a poet, hereward haply blown, From out another worldflower lately flown.

Wilt ask, 'What profit e'er a poet brings?'

He beareth starry stuff about his wings To pollen thee and sting thee fertile: nay, If still thou narrow thy contracted way, -- Worldflower, if thou refuse me -- -- Worldflower, if thou abuse me, And hoist thy stamen's spear-point high To wound my wing and mar mine eye -- Nathless I'll drive me to thy deepest sweet, Yea, richlier shall that pain the pollen beat From me to thee, for oft these pollens be Fine dust from wars that poets wage for thee.

But, O beloved Earthbloom soft a-shine Upon the universal Jessamine, Prithee, abuse me not, Prithee, refuse me not, Yield, yield the heartsome honey love to me Hid in thy nectary!"

And as I sank into a dimmer dream The pleading bee's song-burthen sole did seem: "Hast ne'er a honey-drop of love for me In thy huge nectary?"

____ Tampa, Florida, 1877.

The Harlequin of Dreams.

Swift, through some trap mine eyes have never found, Dim-panelled in the painted scene of Sleep, Thou, giant Harlequin of Dreams, dost leap Upon my spirit's stage. Then Sight and Sound, Then s.p.a.ce and Time, then Language, Mete and Bound, And all familiar Forms that firmly keep Man's reason in the road, change faces, peep Betwixt the legs and mock the daily round.

Yet thou canst more than mock: sometimes my tears At midnight break through bounden lids -- a sign Thou hast a heart: and oft thy little leaven Of dream-taught wisdom works me bettered years.

In one night witch, saint, trickster, fool divine, I think thou'rt Jester at the Court of Heaven!

____ Baltimore, 1878.

Street Cries.

Oft seems the Time a market-town Where many merchant-spirits meet Who up and down and up and down Cry out along the street

Their needs, as wares; one THUS, one SO: Till all the ways are full of sound: -- But still come rain, and sun, and snow, And still the world goes round.

I. Remonstrance.

"Opinion, let me alone: I am not thine.

Prim Creed, with categoric point, forbear To feature me my Lord by rule and line.

Thou canst not measure Mistress Nature's hair, Not one sweet inch: nay, if thy sight is sharp, Would'st count the strings upon an angel's harp?

Forbear, forbear.

"Oh let me love my Lord more fathom deep Than there is line to sound with: let me love My fellow not as men that mandates keep: Yea, all that's lovable, below, above, That let me love by heart, by heart, because (Free from the penal pressure of the laws) I find it fair.

"The tears I weep by day and bitter night, Opinion! for thy sole salt vintage fall.

-- As morn by morn I rise with fresh delight, Time through my cas.e.m.e.nt cheerily doth call 'Nature is new, 'tis birthday every day, Come feast with me, let no man say me nay, Whate'er befall.'

"So fare I forth to feast: I sit beside Some brother bright: but, ere good-morrow's pa.s.sed, Burly Opinion wedging in hath cried 'Thou shalt not sit by us, to break thy fast, Save to our Rubric thou subscribe and swear -- 'Religion hath blue eyes and yellow hair:'

She's Saxon, all.'

"Then, hard a-hungered for my brother's grace Till well-nigh fain to swear his folly's true, In sad dissent I turn my longing face To him that sits on the left: 'Brother, -- with you?'

-- 'Nay, not with me, save thou subscribe and swear 'Religion hath black eyes and raven hair:'

Nought else is true.'

"Debarred of banquets that my heart could make With every man on every day of life, I homeward turn, my fires of pain to slake In deep endearments of a worshipped wife.

'I love thee well, dear Love,' quoth she, 'and yet Would that thy creed with mine completely met, As one, not two.'

"a.s.sa.s.sin! Thief! Opinion, 'tis thy work.

By Church, by throne, by hearth, by every good That's in the Town of Time, I see thee lurk, And e'er some shadow stays where thou hast stood.

Thou hand'st sweet Socrates his hemlock sour; Thou sav'st Barabbas in that hideous hour, And stabb'st the good

"Deliverer Christ; thou rack'st the souls of men; Thou tossest girls to lions and boys to flames; Thou hew'st Crusader down by Saracen; Thou buildest closets full of secret shames; Indifferent cruel, thou dost blow the blaze Round Ridley or Servetus; all thy days Smell scorched; I would

"-- Thou base-born Accident of time and place -- Bigot Pretender unto Judgment's throne -- b.a.s.t.a.r.d, that claimest with a cunning face Those rights the true, true Son of Man doth own By Love's authority -- thou Rebel cold At head of civil wars and quarrels old -- Thou Knife on a throne --

"I would thou left'st me free, to live with love, And faith, that through the love of love doth find My Lord's dear presence in the stars above, The clods below, the flesh without, the mind Within, the bread, the tear, the smile.

Opinion, d.a.m.ned Intriguer, gray with guile, Let me alone."

____ Baltimore, 1878-9.

II. The Ship of Earth.

"Thou Ship of Earth, with Death, and Birth, and Life, and s.e.x aboard, And fires of Desires burning hotly in the hold, I fear thee, O! I fear thee, for I hear the tongue and sword At battle on the deck, and the wild mutineers are bold!

"The dewdrop morn may fall from off the petal of the sky, But all the deck is wet with blood and stains the crystal red.

A pilot, G.o.d, a pilot! for the helm is left awry, And the best sailors in the ship lie there among the dead!"

____ Prattville, Alabama, 1868.

III. How Love Looked for h.e.l.l.

"To heal his heart of long-time pain One day Prince Love for to travel was fain With Ministers Mind and Sense.

'Now what to thee most strange may be?'

Quoth Mind and Sense. 'All things above, One curious thing I first would see -- h.e.l.l,' quoth Love.

"Then Mind rode in and Sense rode out: They searched the ways of man about.

First frightfully groaneth Sense.

''Tis here, 'tis here,' and spurreth in fear To the top of the hill that hangeth above And plucketh the Prince: 'Come, come, 'tis here --'

'Where?' quoth Love --

"'Not far, not far,' said shivering Sense As they rode on. 'A short way hence, -- But seventy paces hence: Look, King, dost see where suddenly This road doth dip from the height above?

Cold blew a mouldy wind by me'

('Cold?' quoth Love)

"'As I rode down, and the River was black, And yon-side, lo! an endless wrack And rabble of souls,' sighed Sense, 'Their eyes upturned and begged and burned In brimstone lakes, and a Hand above Beat back the hands that upward yearned --'

'Nay!' quoth Love --