And the silken, sad, uncertain rustling of each purple curtain Thrilled me- filled me with fantastic terrors never felt before; So that now, to still the beating of my heart, I stood repeating, "'Tis some visitor entreating entrance at my chamber door- Some late visitor entreating entrance at my chamber door;- This it is, and nothing more.
I live on in the sweetness of old dayswith strangers who build new dwellingson blue hills up to the edge of the sky,I talk softly with the captured treesand comfort them sometimes.How slowly time consumes the core of things,and soundlessly treads fate__ heavy heel.
Poems 1916
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I live on in the sweetness of old dayswith strangers who build new dwellingson blue hills up to the edge of the sky,I talk softly with the captured treesand comfort them sometimes.How slowly time consumes the core of things,and soundlessly treads fate__ heavy heel.
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