Content Feed

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
And I had put away
My labor and my leisure too,
For His Civility –

We passed the School, where Children strove
At Recess – in the Ring –
We passed the Fields of Gazing Grain –
We passed the Setting Sun –

Or rather – He passed Us –
The Dews drew quivering and Chill –
For only Gossamer, my Gown –
My Tippet – only Tulle –

We paused before a House that seemed
A Swelling of the Ground –
The Roof was scarcely visible –
The Cornice – in the Ground –

Since then – 'tis Centuries – and yet
Feels shorter than the Day
I first surmised the Horses' Heads
Were toward Eternity –

~ ~ ~

But Eternity – has Rooms –
I did not know – before –
Some furnished – with a single Light –
Some – with an open Door –

The Centuries – have Tenants here –
Who never speak – aloud –
But gesture – with a silent Hand –
Like Figures – in a Crowd –

I asked of Death – if He had seen
The ones I left – behind –
He smiled – the way a Lantern does –
When Wind – disturbs its Kind –

He said – the Living do not know
How thin – the Wall between –
A Breath – a Cobweb – and a Thought –
Is all there is – to Screen –

I pressed my Palm against the Air –
And felt – a Warmth come through –
As if a Hand – on some far Side –
Was reaching – for me too –

The Carriage – waits – it always waits –
The Horses – do not tire –
They've carried Pharaohs – Poets – Saints –
And every lost Desire –

I've learned – that Death is not a Place –
But rather – a Degree –
A slightly different Angle – on
The Light – we used to see –

The Children – at their Recess – still
Are playing – in the Ring –
The Gazing Grain – still gazes up –
The Birds – remember Spring –

And I – who could not stop for Death –
Now find – I cannot leave –
Not out of Chains – but out of Love –
For all that still – believes –

The House – that swelled – beneath the Ground –
Is not so dark – as told –
It has a Window – facing East –
Where Mornings – turn to Gold –

And through that Glass – I watch the World –
Continue – as before –
Each Sunrise – an Apology –
Each Sunset – something More –

So should you feel – a Presence near –
When Dusk – begins to fall –
It may be just – the Centuries –
Remembering – you all –

The Carriage – rocks – the Horses – breathe –
Immortality – keeps still –
And Death – that courteous Gentleman –
Drives on – as Gentlemen will –

Annabel Lee: The Tides Beyond
(A continuation, after Edgar Allan Poe)

— Original ends: —
"And so, all the night-tide, I lie down by the side
Of my darling—my darling—my life and my bride,
In her sepulchre there by the sea—
In her tomb by the sounding sea."

— The continuation: —

And so, when the stars rose over the sea,
I heard her voice on the salted air—
My beautiful Annabel Lee—
A whisper that wound through my tangled hair,
A sorrow too vast to bear.

The angels had taken her, cold and keen,
But never could sever the silvered thread
That bound me still to my radiant queen,
That tethered the living unto the dead,
In a kingdom beyond the seen.

For the moon never beams without bringing me dreams
Of the garden where once she would wait—
Where the roses bloomed crimson in silent screams
And the fountain kept vigil by fate—
And I see her there, pale in the gaslight's gleams,
At the edge of the iron gate.

And the wind—ah, the wind!—it remembers her name,
It carries her laughter like rain,
And the ocean repeats it, a thundering claim
That rolls through each trembling pane—
Annabel, Annabel, burning flame,
That I shall not speak in vain.

I have walked by the shore where the breakers moan,
Where the kelp twists in funeral bands,
And I swear by the heavens I am not alone—
For I feel the press of her hands,
Cold as marble, yet gentle as tone
Of a harp played on desolate strands.

The seraphs above may begrudge me still,
Those demons of envious wing,
But neither their malice, nor heaven's chill will
Can silence the song that I sing—
For love is a force beyond death's darkest skill,
An imperishable, glorious thing.

And I know, when at last the black tides shall rise
And the stars burn their funeral white,
I shall follow her voice through the thundering skies,
Through the corridors measureless, bright—
And gaze once again in her luminous eyes,
My Annabel, bride of the night.

So I wait by the tomb where the sea-grasses sway,
Where the salt and the sorrow entwine,
For the hour, the moment, the glimmering day
When her kingdom shall merge into mine—
And together we'll drift on the tides far away,
Past the last of the mortal design—
In a love that no angel can slay,
In a bond that is deathless, divine—
With my darling, my darling, for whom I shall pray,
My Annabel Lee—ever mine.