IF I should die to-night,
My friends would look upon my quiet face
Before they laid it in its resting-place,
And deem that death had left it almost fair;
And, laying snow-white flowers against my hair,
Would smooth it down with tearful tenderness,
And fold my hands with lingering caress—
Poor hands, so empty and so cold to...
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How little recks it where men lie,
When once the moment’s past
In which the dim and glazing eye
Has looked on earth its last,—
Whether beneath the sculptured urn
The coffined form shall rest,
Or in its nakedness return
Back to its mother’s breast!Death is a common friend or foe,
As different men may hold,... -
As if the Sea should part
And show a further Sea —
And that — a further — and the Three
But a presumption be —
Of Periods of Seas —
Unvisited of Shores —
Themselves the Verge of Seas to be —
Eternity — is Those — -
I should have been too glad, I see —
Too lifted — for the scant degree
Of Life's penurious Round —
My little Circuit would have shamed
This new Circumference — have blamed —
The homelier time behind.
I should have been too saved — I see —
Too rescued — Fear too dim to me
...I should not dare to leave my friend,
Because — because if he should die
While I was gone — and I — too late —
Should reach the Heart that wanted me —
If I should disappoint the eyes
That hunted — hunted so — to see —
And could not bear to shut until
They "noticed" me — they noticed me...If I should die,
And you should live —
And time should gurgle on —
And morn should beam —
And noon should burn —
As it has usual done —
If Birds should build as early
And Bees as bustling go —
One might depart at option
From enterprise below!
'Tis sweet to...Lest they should come — is all my fear
When sweet incarcerated hereShould you but fail at — Sea —
In sight of me —
Or doomed lie —
Next Sun — to die —
Or rap — at Paradise — unheard
I'd harass God
Until he let you in!That this should feel the need of Death
The same as those that lived
Is such a Feat of Irony
As never was — achieved —
Not satisfied to ape the Great
In his simplicity
The small must die, as well as He —
Oh the Audacity —The Soul should always stand ajar
That if the Heaven inquire
He will not be obliged to wait
Or shy of troubling Her
Depart, before the Host have slid
The Bolt unto the Door —
To search for the accomplished Guest,
Her Visitor, no more —