Delight

Delight is as the flight -
Or in the Ratio of it,
As the Schools would say -
The Rainbow's way -
A Skein
Flung colored, after Rain,
Would suit as bright,
Except that flight
Were Aliment -

"If it would last"
I asked the East,
When that Bent Stripe
Struck up my childish
Firmament -
And I, for glee,
Took Rainbows, as the common way,
And empty Skies
The Eccentricity -

And so with Lives -
And so with Butterflies -
Seen magic -- through the fright
That they will cheat the sight -
And Dower latitudes far on -
Some sudden morn -
Our portion - in the fashion -
Done --

Answer July --
Where is the Bee --
Where is the Blush --
Where is the Hay? 

Ah, said July --
Where is the Seed --
Where is the Bud --
Where is the May --
Answer Thee -- Me --

Nay -- said the May --
Show me the Snow --
Show me the Bells --
Show me the Jay! 

Quibbled the Jay --
Where be the Maize --
Where be the Haze --
Where be the Bur? 
Here -- said the Year --

I taste a liquor never brewed,
From tankards scooped in pearl;
Not all the vats upon the Rhine
Yield such an alcohol!

Inebriate of air am I,
And debauchee of dew,
Reeling, through endless summer days,
From inns of molten blue.

When landlords turn the drunken bee
Out of the foxglove's door,
When butterflies renounce their drams,
I shall but drink the more!

Till seraphs swing their snowy hats,
And saints to windows run,
To see the little tippler
Leaning against the sun!