I sent my Soul through the Invisible Some letter of that After-life to spell And by and by my Soul returned to me And answered "I Myself am Heav'n and Hell."
Tomorrow! - Why tomorrow I may be Myself with yesterday's sev'n thousand years.
The thoughtful Soul to Solitude retires.
Yet Ah that Spring should vanish with the Rose. That Youth's sweetscented manuscript should close! The Nightingale that in the branches sang Ah whence and whither flown again who knows?
Ah, make the most of what we yet may spend,Before we too into the Dust descend;Dust into Dust, and under Dust to lieSans Wine, sans Song, sans Singer, and--sans End!Alike for those who for To-day prep...
Ah love! could you and I with Him conspire To grasp this sorry scheme of things entire Would not we shatter it to bits - and then Re-mold it nearer to the heart's desire!
Ah Love! could you and I with him conspire To grasp this sorry Scheme of Things entire Would we not shatter it to bits - and then Re-mould it nearer to the Heart's Desire?
And this I know whether the one True Light Kindle to Love or Wrath consume me quite One flash of it within the Tavern caught Better than in the temple lost outright.
You know my friends with what a brave carouse I made a second marriage in my house Divorced old barren reason from my bed And took the daughter of the vine to spouse.
Myself when young did eagerly frequent doctor and saint, and heard great argument about it and about: but evermore came out by the same door as in I went.