1860, #162,
Some Rainbow -- coming from the Fair!
Some Vision of the World Cashmere --
I confidently see!
Or else a Peacock's purple Train
Feather by feather -- on the plain
Fritters itself away!The dreamy Butterflies bestir!
Lethargic pools resume the whir
Of last year's sundered tune!
From some old Fortress on the sun
Baronial Bees -- march -- one by one --
In murmuring platoon!The Robins stand as thick today
As flakes of snow stood yesterday --
On fence -- and Roof -- and Twig!
The Orchis binds her feather on
For her old lover - Don the Sun!
Revisiting the Bog!Without Commander! Countless! Still!
The Regiments of Wood and Hill
In bright detachment stand!
Behold! Whose Multitudes are these?
The children of whose turbaned seas --
Or what Circassian Land?