Heart Asks
The heart asks pleasure first
And then, excuse from pain;
And then those little anodynes
That deaden suffering,
And then to go to sleep
And then, if it should be,
The will of its Inquisitor
The liberty to die!
____________________
I Have No Life But This
I have no life but this,
To lead it here;
Nor any death, but lest
Dispelled from there;
Nor tie to earths to come,
Nor action new,
Except through this extent,
The Realm of You!
Sunday, February 3, 2008
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