We shun it ere it comes,
Afraid of Joy,
Then sue it to delay
And lest it fly,
Beguile it more and more —
May not this be
Old Suitor Heaven,
Like our dismay at thee?
|
We talked with each other about each other |
We thirst at first — 'tis Nature's Act — |
We wear our sober Dresses when we die, |
We — Bee and I — live by the quaffing — |
We'll pass without the parting |
Were it but Me that gained the Height — |
Were natural mortal lady |
What care the Dead, for Chanticleer — |
What did They do since I saw Them? |