If I should die, think only this of me:
That there's some corner of a foreign field
That is for ever England. There shall be
In that rich earth a richer dust concealed;
A dust whom England bore, shaped, made aware,
Gave, once, her flowers to love, her ways to roam,
A body of England's, breathing English air,
Washed by the rivers, blest by suns of home.
And think, this heart, all evil shed away,
......
The Stranger within my gate,
He may be true or kind,
But he does not talk my talk--
I cannot feel his mind.
I see the face and the eyes and the mouth,
But not the soul behind.
The men of my own stock,
They may do ill or well,
But they tell the lies I am wanted to,
......
Up! up! my Friend, and quit your books;
Or surely you'll grow double:
Up! up! my Friend, and clear your looks;
Why all this toil and trouble?
The sun, above the mountain's head,
A freshening lustre mellow
Through all the long green fields has spread,
His first sweet evening yellow.
......
Life's course is not an
easy path to traverse,
For some, it is rocky, for
others, worse.
Once started, there is no
visible return,
Albeit a smoother route is there to earn!
Each human has a will ethereally bestowed.
It is the only quality exclusively owned.
......
FLOOD-TIDE below me! I watch you face to face;
Clouds of the west! sun there half an hour high! I see you also face
to face.
Crowds of men and women attired in the usual costumes! how curious
you are to me!
On the ferry-boats, the hundreds and hundreds that cross, returning
home, are more curious to me than you suppose;
And you that shall cross from shore to shore years hence, are more to
me, and more in my meditations, than you might suppose.
......
There is a beast,
that lives within.
In every man,
promotes a sin.
You hear his whisper,
from deep within.
Inside your brain.
under your skin.
He looks around,
......
Dim lit, damp and distant corner
torn from dream of vapor’s fold.
Slow descent to worlds divided,
nothing hot and nothing cold.
Long ago this soul forgotten,
cast off in the ides of youth.
Un-forgiven deeds left hiding
beneath the stone of burden’s proof
......
Wicked aged woman,
wreaking harm with cauldron,
warty nose, crafty eyes;
Wisdom sees through dark guise!
When riding purple broom,
wild crone cackles at moon.
Warblers on crimson skies.
The Hero tried to save the world,
Plunging into chaos
With clever words,
He gave them clarity
And stole the lights from their eyes.
The Hero's hero became the Villian
Trying to save the Hero
With desperation,
And a game of cat and mouse
......
Send out the singers -- let the room be still;
They have not eased my pain nor brought me sleep.
Close out the sun, for I would have it dark
That I may feel how black the grave will be.
The sun is setting, for the light is red,
And you are outlined in a golden fire,
Like Ursula upon an altar-screen.
Come, leave the light and sit beside my bed,
For I have had enough of saints and prayers.
Strange broken thoughts are beating in my brain,
......