We do not play on Gravesโ Because there isn't Roomโ Besidesโit isn't evenโit slants And People comeโ And put a Flower on itโ And hang their faces soโ We're fearing that their Hearts will dropโ And crush our pretty playโ And so we move as far As Enemiesโawayโ Just looking round to see how far It isโOccasionallyโ
Emily DickinsonBecause I could not stop for Death, He kindly stopped for me; The carriage held but just ourselves And Immortality. We slowly drove, he knew no haste, And I had put away My labour, and my leisure too, For his civility. We passed the school where children played, Their lessons scarcely done; We passed the fields of gazing grain, We passed the setting sun. We paused before a house that seemed A swelling of the ground; The roof was scarcely visible, The cornice but a mound. Since then 'tis centuries; but each Feels shorter than the day I first surmised the horses' heads Were toward eternity.
Emily DickinsonYou are nipping in the bud fancies which I let blossom. The shore is safer, but I love to buffet the sea - I can count the bitter wrecks here in these pleasant waters, and hear the murmuring winds, but oh, I love the danger!
Emily Dickinson