Wild Nights – Wild Nights!

Wild nights – Wild nights!
Were I with thee,
Wild nights should be
Our luxury!
 
Futile – the Winds -
To a Heart in port -
Done with the Compass -
Done with the Chart!
 
Rowing in Eden -
Ah, the Sea!
Might I but moor – Tonight
In Thee!
(Emily Dickinson)

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The Chariot

Because I could not stop for Death,
He kindly stopped for me;
The carriage held but just ourselves
And Immortality.
 
We slowly drove, he knew no haste,
And I had put away
My labor, and my leisure too,
For his civility.
 
We passed the school where children played,
Their lessons scarcely done;
We passed the fields of gazing grain,
We passed the setting sun.
 
We paused before [...]

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On A Dead Child

Man proposes, God in His time disposes,
And so I wandered up to where you lay,
A little rose among the little roses,
And no more dead than they.
 
It seemed your childish feet were tired of straying,
You did not greet me from your flower-strewn bed,
Yet still I knew that you were only playing -
Playing at being dead.
 
I might have [...]

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I died for beauty …

I died for beauty, but was scarce
Adjusted in the tomb,
When one who died for truth was lain
In an adjoining room.
 
He questioned softly why I failed?
‘For beauty,’ I replied.
‘And I for truth, – the two are one;
We brethren are,’ he said.
 
And so, as kinsmen met a night,
We talked between the rooms,
Until the moss had reached our [...]

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