My Heart--calls me softly sometimes
Like a dove on a summer day.
On the edge of memory she sits
And beckons me to play.
To soothe her gypsy soul,
With a song or two and then
Open the door to the gilded cage
And let her see beyond the bend.
At times she flies towards heaven--
But gets caught in a bitter wind
And then she flutters near the earth
Thinking it better to pretend,
That she and I are separate--
Two birds, two lives, two songs
And yet I know the untold truth
She’s not where she belongs.
--C. H. Green @2007
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So live, that when thy summons comes to join
The innumerable caravan which moves
To that mysterious realm, where each shall take
75
His chamber in the silent halls of death,
Thou go not, like the quarry-slave at night,
Scourged to his dungeon, but, sustained and soothed
By an unfaltering trust, approach thy grave
Like one who wraps the drapery of his couch
80
About him, and lies down to pleasant dreams.--William Cullen Bryant from Thanatopsis
A spinoff blog where I post my poetry. Please visit me at Beneath the Ivy Wreath.
Coyprighted material of C.H. Green
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So live, that when thy summons comes to join
The innumerable caravan which moves
To that mysterious realm, where each shall take
75
His chamber in the silent halls of death,
Thou go not, like the quarry-slave at night,
Scourged to his dungeon, but, sustained and soothed
By an unfaltering trust, approach thy grave
Like one who wraps the drapery of his couch
80
About him, and lies down to pleasant dreams.--William Cullen Bryant from Thanatopsis
1 comment:
Oh gosh, this is excellent.
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