The Ultimate Vampire Resource and Directory

Two roads diverged in a yellow wood,

And sorry I could not travel both

And be one traveler, long I stood

And looked down one as far as I could

To where it bent in the undergrowth;



Then took the other, as just as fair,

And having perhaps the better claim,

Because it was grassy and wanted wear;

Though as for that the passing there

Had worn them really about the same,



And both that morning equally lay

In leaves no step had trodden black.

Oh, I kept the first for another day!

Yet knowing how way leads on to way,

I doubted if I should ever come back.



I shall be telling this with a sigh

Somewhere ages and ages hence:

Two roads diverged in a wood, and I--

I took the one less traveled by,

And that has made all the difference.

Do not go gentle into that good night,

Old age should burn and rave at close of day;

Rage, rage against the dying of the light.



Though wise men at their end know dark is right,

Because their words had forked no lightning they

Do not go gentle into that good night.



Good men, the last wave by, crying how bright

Their frail deeds might have danced in a green bay,

Rage, rage against the dying of the light.



Wild men who caught and sang the sun in flight,

And learn, too late, they grieved it on its way,

Do not go gentle into that good night.



Grave men, near death, who see with blinding sight

Blind eyes could blaze like meteors and be gay,

Rage, rage against the dying of the light.



And you, my father, there on the sad height,

Curse, bless, me now with your fierce tears, I pray.

Do not go gentle into that good night.

Rage, rage against the dying of the light.

BECAUSE 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, 5

And I had put away

My labor, and my leisure too,

For his civility.



We passed the school where children played

At wrestling in a ring; 10

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, 15

The cornice but a mound.



Since then ’t is centuries; but each

Feels shorter than the day

I first surmised the horses’ heads

Were toward eternity.

HEART, we will forget him!

You and I, to-night!

You may forget the warmth he gave,

I will forget the light.



When you have done, pray tell me, 5

That I my thoughts may dim;

Haste! lest while you’re lagging,

I may remember him!

COMMENTS

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Seamus
22:19 Sep 10 2008

I love Emily!!!!!!

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POST COMMENT

HE fumbles at your spirit

As players at the keys

Before they drop full music on;

He stuns you by degrees,



Prepares your brittle substance 5

For the ethereal blow,

By fainter hammers, further heard,

Then nearer, then so slow



Your breath has time to straighten,

Your brain to bubble cool,— 10

Deals one imperial thunderbolt

That scalps your naked soul.

I GAVE myself to him,

And took himself for pay.

The solemn contract of a life

Was ratified this way.



The wealth might disappoint, 5

Myself a poorer prove

Than this great purchaser suspect,

The daily own of Love



Depreciate the vision;

But, till the merchant buy, 10

Still fable, in the isles of spice,

The subtle cargoes lie.



At least, ’t is mutual risk,—

Some found it mutual gain;

Sweet debt of Life,—each night to owe, 15

Insolvent, every noon.

I HIDE myself within my flower,

That wearing on your breast,

You, unsuspecting, wear me too—

And angels know the rest.



I hide myself within my flower, 5

That, fading from your vase,

You, unsuspecting, feel for me

Almost a loneliness.

IF you were coming in the fall,

I ’d brush the summer by

With half a smile and half a spurn,

As housewives do a fly.



If I could see you in a year, 5

I ’d wind the months in balls,

And put them each in separate drawers,

Until their time befalls.



If only centuries delayed,

I ’d count them on my hand, 10

Subtracting till my fingers dropped

Into Van Diemen’s land.



If certain, when this life was out,

That yours and mine should be,

I ’d toss it yonder like a rind, 15

And taste eternity.



But now, all ignorant of the length

Of time’s uncertain wing,

It goads me, like the goblin bee,

That will not state its sting.

THE BAT is dun with wrinkled wings

Like fallow article,

And not a song pervades his lips,

Or none perceptible.



His small umbrella, quaintly halved, 5

Describing in the air

An arc alike inscrutable,—

Elate philosopher!



Deputed from what firmament

Of what astute abode, 10

Empowered with what malevolence

Auspiciously withheld.



To his adroit Creator

Ascribe no less the praise;

Beneficent, believe me, 15

His eccentricities.

WILL there really be a morning?

Is there such a thing as day?

Could I see it from the mountains

If I were as tall as they?



Has it feet like water-lilies? 5

Has it feathers like a bird?

Is it brought from famous countries

Of which I have never heard?



Oh, some scholar! Oh, some sailor!

Oh, some wise man from the skies! 10

Please to tell a little pilgrim

Where the place called morning lies!

A POOR torn heart, a tattered heart,

That sat it down to rest,

Nor noticed that the ebbing day

Flowed silver to the west,

Nor noticed night did soft descend 5

Nor constellation burn,

Intent upon the vision

Of latitudes unknown.



The angels, happening that way,

This dusty heart espied; 10

Tenderly took it up from toil

And carried it to God.

There,—sandals for the barefoot;

There,—gathered from the gales,

Do the blue havens by the hand 15

Lead the wandering sails.

THE NEAREST dream recedes, unrealized.

The heaven we chase

Like the June bee

Before the school-boy

Invites the race; 5

Stoops to an easy clover—

Dips—evades—teases—deploys;

Then to the royal clouds

Lifts his light pinnace

Heedless of the boy 10

Staring, bewildered, at the mocking sky.



Homesick for steadfast honey,

Ah! the bee flies not

That brews that rare variety.

I ’M nobody! Who are you?

Are you nobody, too?

Then there ’s a pair of us—don’t tell!

They ’d banish us, you know.



How dreary to be somebody! 5

How public, like a frog

To tell your name the livelong day

To an admiring bog!

I HAD no time to hate, because

The grave would hinder me,

And life was not so ample I

Could finish enmity.



Nor had I time to love; but since 5

Some industry must be,

The little toil of love, I thought,

Was large enough for me.

THE SOUL selects her own society,

Then shuts the door;

On her divine majority

Obtrude no more.



Unmoved, she notes the chariot’s pausing 5

At her low gate;

Unmoved, an emperor is kneeling

Upon her mat.



I ’ve known her from an ample nation

Choose one; 10

Then close the valves of her attention

Like stone.

IF I can stop one heart from breaking,

I shall not live in vain;

If I can ease one life the aching,

Or cool one pain,

Or help one fainting robin

Unto his nest again,

I shall not live in vain.