Life and Existence

This quiet Dust was Gentlemen and Ladies And Lads and Girls— Was laughter and ability and Sighing, And Frocks and Curls.

Alter! When the Hills do— Falter! When the Sun Question if His Glory Be the Perfect One— Surfeit! When the Daffodil Doth of the Dew— Even as Herself—Sir— I will—of You—

Because I could not stop for Death, He kindly stopped for me— The Carriage held but just Ourselves And Immortality.

Because I could not stop for Death, He kindly stopped for me— The Carriage held but just Ourselves And Immortality.

Because I could not stop for Death, He kindly stopped for me— The Carriage held but just Ourselves And Immortality.

The Brain—is wider than the Sky— For—put them side by side— The one the other will contain With ease—and You—beside.

And so, as Kinsmen, met a Night— We talked between the Rooms— Until the Moss had reached our lips— And covered up—our names—

And so, as Kinsmen, met a Night— We talked between the Rooms— Until the Moss had reached our lips— And covered up—our names—

It was not Death, for I stood up, And all the Dead, lie down—

I died for Beauty—but was scarce Adjusted in the Tomb When One who died for Truth, was lain In an adjoining Room—

Good Morning—Midnight— I’m coming Home— Day—got tired of Me— How could I—of Him?

Much Madness is divinest Sense— To a discerning Eye— Much Sense—the starkest Madness— ’Tis the Majority In this, as All, prevail— Assent—and you are sane— Demur—you’re straightway dangerous— And handled with a Chain.

Except Thyself may be Thine Enemy— Captivity is Consciousness— So’s Liberty.

After great pain, a formal feeling comes.

Of Course—I prayed— And did God Care? He cared as much as on the Air A Bird—had stamped her foot— And cried “Give Me”—

Some keep the Sabbath going to Church— I keep it, staying at Home— With a bobolink for a Chorister— And an Orchard, for a Dome—

So instead of getting to Heaven, at last— I’m going, all along.

So instead of getting to Heaven, at last— I’m going, all along.

The Soul selects her own Society— Then—shuts the Door— To her divine Majority— Present no more—

Surgeons must be very careful When they take the knife! Underneath their fine incisions Stirs the Culprit— Life!

Behold the life at ease; it drifts, The sharpened life commands its course.

Full lasting is the song, though he, The singer, passes.

Ah, what a dusty answer gets the soul When hot for certainties in this our life!

What are we first? First, animals; and next Intelligences at a leap; on whom Pale lies the distant shadow of the tomb.