Life and Existence

When I am dead, my dearest, Sing no sad songs for me; Plant thou no roses at my head, Nor shady cypress tree. Be the green grass above me With showers and dewdrops wet; And if thou wilt, remember And if thou wilt, forget.

Remember me when I am gone away, Gone far away into the silent land.

Remember me when I am gone away, Gone far away into the silent land.

That Love is all there is, Is all we know of Love; It is enough, the freight should be Proportioned to the groove.

The only secret people keep Is Immortality.

The only secret people keep Is Immortality.

My life closed twice before its close— It yet remains to see If Immortality unveil A third event to me So huge, so hopeless to conceive As these that twice befell. Parting is all we know of heaven, And all we need of hell.

My life closed twice before its close— It yet remains to see If Immortality unveil A third event to me So huge, so hopeless to conceive As these that twice befell. Parting is all we know of heaven, And all we need of hell.

That it will never come again Is what makes life so sweet.

Eden is that old-fashioned House We dwell in every day Without suspecting our abode Until we drive away.

I took one Draught of Life— I’ll tell you what I paid— Precisely an existence— The market price, they said. They weighed me, Dust by Dust— They balanced Film with Film, Then handed me my Being’s worth— A single Dram of Heaven!

A Drunkard cannot meet a Cork Without a Revery— And so encountering a Fly This January Day Jamaicas of Remembrance stir That send me reeling in.

A little Madness in the Spring Is wholesome even for the King.

Until the Desert knows That Water grows His Sands suffice But let him once suspect That Caspian Fact Sahara dies.

A word is dead When it is said, Some say. I say it just Begins to live That day.

The Bustle in a House The Morning after Death Is solemnest of industries Enacted upon Earth— The Sweeping up the Heart, And putting Love away We shall not want to use again Until Eternity.

I never saw a Moor— I never saw the Sea— Yet know I how the Heather looks And what a Billow be. I never spoke with God Nor visited in Heaven— Yet certain am I of the spot As if the Checks were given—

The Dying, is a trifle, past But living, this include The dying multifold—without The Respite to be dead.

The Dying, is a trifle, past But living, this include The dying multifold—without The Respite to be dead.

But never met this Fellow Attended or alone Without a tighter breathing And Zero at the Bone—

Love—is anterior to Life— Posterior—to Death— Initial of Creation, and The Exponent of Earth.

Love—is anterior to Life— Posterior—to Death— Initial of Creation, and The Exponent of Earth.

Dying! To be afraid of thee One must to thine Artillery Have left exposed a Friend— Than thine old Arrow is a Shot Delivered straighter to the Heart The leaving Love behind.

God gave a Loaf to every Bird— But just a Crumb—to Me—