That now, domestic as a plate,
I should retire at half-past eight?
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Oh, my beloved, have you thought of this:
More cruel than Death, will tear you from my kiss,And make you old, and leave me in my prime?How you and I, who scale together yetA little while the sweet, immortal heightNo pilgrim may remember or forget,As sure as the world turns, some granite nightShall lie awake and know the gracious flameGone out forever on…
I will be the gladdest thing
I will touch a hundred flowersAnd not pick one.I will look at cliffs and cloudsWith quiet eyes,Watch the wind bow down the grass,And the grass rise.And when lights begin to showUp from the town,I will mark which must be mine,And then start down!
When I too long have looked upon your face,
Save by the mists of brightness has its place,And terrible beauty not to be endured,I turn away reluctant from your light,And stand irresolute, a mind undone,A silly, dazzled thing deprived of sightFrom having looked too long upon the sun.Then is my daily life a narrow roomIn which a little while, uncertainly,Surrounded by impenetrable gloom,Among familiar…
Oh, lay my ashes on the wind
And I shall meet a fishermanOut of Capri,And he will say, seeing me,‘What a Strange Thing!Like a fish’s scale or aButterfly’s wing.’Oh, lay my ashes on the windThat blows away the fog.And I shall meet a farmer boyLeaping through the bog,And he will say, seeing me,‘What a Strange Thing!Like a peat-ash or aButterfly’s wing.’And I…
Listen, children:
From his old coatsI’ll make you little jackets;I’ll make you little trousersFrom his old pants.There’ll be in his pocketsThings he used to put there,Keys and penniesCovered with tobacco;Dan shall have the penniesTo save in his bank;Anne shall have the keysTo make a pretty noise with.Life must go on,And the dead be forgotten;Life must go on,Though…
Cut if you will, with Sleep’s dull knife,
The years that Time take off my life,He’ll take from off the other end!