Bring Me Sunset in a Cup

Bring me the sunset in a cup --
Reckon the morning's flagons up
And say how many Dew --
Tell me how far the morning leaps --
Tell me what time the weaver sleeps
Who spun the breadth of blue!

Write me how many notes there be
In the new Robin's extasy [sic]1
Among astonished boughs --
How many trips the Tortoise makes --
How many cups the Bee partakes,
The Debauchee of Dews!

Also, Who laid the Rainbow's piers,
Also, Who leads the docile spheres
By withes of supple blue?
Whose fingers string the stalactite --
Who counts the wampum of the night
To see that none is due?

Who built this little Alban House
And shut the windows down so close
My spirit cannot see?
Who'll let me out some gala day
With implements to fly away,
Passing Pomposity?

Me — come! My dazzled face
In such a shining place!
Me — hear! My foreign Ear
The sounds of Welcome — there!

The Saints forget
Our bashful feet —

My Holiday, shall be
That They — remember me —
My Paradise — the fame
That They — pronounce my name —

I sing to use the waiting, 
  My bonnet but to tie, 
And shut the door unto my house; 
  No more to do have I, 
  
Till, his best step approaching,
  We journey to the day, 
And tell each other how we sang 
  To keep the dark away.