Much madness is divinest sense
To a discerning eye;
Much sense the starkest madness.
’T is the majority
In this, as all, prevails.
Assent, and you are sane;
Demur,—you ’re straightway dangerous,
And handled with a chain.

"I have been in a savage, turbulent state for some time, indulging in a sort of chronic disgust at everything & everybody - I guess a good deal how Emily feels." - Samuel Bowles, 1863

I breathed enough to take the Trick --
And now, removed from Air --
I simulate the Breath, so well --
That One, to be quite sure --

The Lungs are stirless -- must descend
Among the Cunning Cells --
And touch the Pantomine -- Himself,
How cool - the Bellows feels!

Dare you see a soul at the white heat?
Then crouch within the door.
Red is the fire’s common tint;
But when the vivid ore

Has sated flame’s conditions,
Its quivering substance plays
Without a color but the light
Of unanointed blaze.

Least village boasts its blacksmith,
Whose anvil’s even din
Stands symbol for the finer forge
That soundless tugs within,

Refining these impatient ores
With hammer and with blaze,
Until the designated light
Repudiate the forge.

I never hear the word “escape”
Without a quicker blood,
A sudden expectation,
A flying attitude.

I never hear of prisons broad
By soldiers battered down,
But I tug childish at my bars,—
Only to fail again!

"I never was with any one who drained my nerve power so much. Without touching her, she drew from me. I am glad not to live near her. She often thought me tired & seemed very thoughtful of others."

Thomas Wentworth Higginson, 1870

...such command of words.
I am truly astonished, yet disturbed.
A poetic rival? I would hope never...

How happy is the little Stone
That rambles in the Road alone,
And doesn't care about Careers
And Exigencies never fears --
Whose Coat of elemental Brown
A passing Universe put on,
And independent as the Sun
Associates or glows alone,
Fulfilling absolute Decree
In casual simplicity --

It would have starved a Gnat —
To live so small as I —
And yet I was a living Child —
With Food's necessity

Upon me — like a Claw —
I could no more remove
Than I could coax a Leech away —
Or make a Dragon — move —

Not like the Gnat — had I —
The privilege to fly
And seek a Dinner for myself —
How mightier He — than I —

Nor like Himself — the Art
Upon the Window Pane
To gad my little Being out —
And not begin — again —

Your Riches -- taught me -- Poverty.
Myself -- a Millionaire
In little Wealths, as Girls could boast
Till broad as Buenos Ayre --

You drifted your Dominions --
A Different Peru --
And I esteemed All Poverty
For Life's Estate with you --

Of Mines, I little know -- myself --
But just the names, of Gems --
The Colors of the Commonest --
And scarce of Diadems --

So much, that did I meet the Queen --
Her Glory I should know --
But this, must be a different Wealth --
To miss it -- beggars so --

I'm sure 'tis India -- all Day --
To those who look on You --
Without a stint -- without a blame,
Might I -- but be the Jew --

I'm sure it is Golconda --
Beyond my power to deem --
To have a smile for Mine -- each Day,
How better, than a Gem!

At least, it solaces to know
That there exists -- a Gold --
Altho' I prove it, just in time
Its distance -- to behold --

Its far -- far Treasure to surmise --
And estimate the Pearl --
That slipped my simple fingers through --
While just a Girl at School.