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by
Emily Dickinson
Elijah's Wagon knew no thill
Elijah's Wagon knew no thill
Was innocent of Wheel
Elijah's horses as unique
As was his vehicle --
Elijah's journey to portray
Expire with him the skill
Who justified Elijah
In feats inscrutable --
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by
Emily Dickinson
Cosmopolities without a plea
Cosmopolities without a plea
Alight in every Land
The compliments of Paradise
From those within my Hand
Their dappled Journey to themselves
A compensation fair
Knock and it shall be opened
Is their Theology
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by
Emily Dickinson
I sing to use the Waiting
I sing to use the Waiting
My Bonnet but to tie
And shut the Door unto my House
No more to do have I
Till His best step approaching
We journey to the Day
And tell each other how We sung
To Keep the Dark away.
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by
Emily Dickinson
'Tis customary as we part
'Tis customary as we part
A trinket -- to confer --
It helps to stimulate the faith
When Lovers be afar --
'Tis various -- as the various taste --
Clematis -- journeying far --
Presents me with a single Curl
Of her Electric Hair --
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by
Emily Dickinson
Dropped into the Ether Acre --
Dropped into the Ether Acre --
Wearing the Sod Gown --
Bonnet of Everlasting Laces --
Brooch -- frozen on --
Horses of Blonde -- and Coach of Silver --
Baggage a strapped Pearl --
Journey of Down -- and Whip of Diamond --
Riding to meet the Earl --
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by
Wendell Berry
The Real Work
It may be that when we no longer know what to do
we have come our real work,
and that when we no longer know which way to go
we have come to our real journey.
The mind that is not baffled is not employed.
The impeded stream is the one that sings.
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by
William Butler Yeats
The Pity Of Love
A pity beyond all telling
Is hid in the heart of love:
The folk who are buying and selling,
The clouds on their journey above,
The cold wet winds ever blowing,
And the shadowy hazel grove
Where mouse-grey waters are flowing,
Threaten the head that I love.
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by
Henry Van Dyke
The Gentle Traveller
Through many a land your journey ran,
And showed the best the world can boast:
Now tell me, traveller, if you can,
The place that pleased you most."
She laid her hands upon my breast,
And murmured gently in my ear,
"The place I loved and liked the best
Was in your arms, my dear!"
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by
Barry Tebb
THE OLD STRAIGHT TRACK
Runs to no compass point
But starts within the human heart
Where travellers in twos may go
As for a while it winds beside
A man-made road then veers aside
We met at a cross-roads once and journeyed
Together for a while across a moor
And then on horseback sadly you waved adieu.
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by
William Blake
Ah! Sun-Flower
Ah Sun-flower! weary of time.
Who countest the steps of the Sun;
Seeking after that sweet golden clime
Where the travellers journey is done.
Where the Youth pined away with desire,
And the pale Virgin shrouded in snow:
Arise from their graves and aspire.
Where my Sun-flower wishes to go.
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by
Emily Dickinson
The pedigree of Honey
The pedigree of Honey
Does not concern the Bee,
Nor lineage of Ecstasy
Delay the Butterfly
On spangle journeys to the peak
Of some perceiveless thing --
The right of way to Tripoli
A more essential thing.
--
The Pedigree of Honey
Does not concern the Bee --
A Clover, any time, to him,
Is Aristocracy --
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by
Emily Dickinson
Nobody knows this little Rose
Nobody knows this little Rose --
It might a pilgrim be
Did I not take it from the ways
And lift it up to thee.
Only a Bee will miss it --
Only a Butterfly,
Hastening from far journey --
On its breast to lie --
Only a Bird will wonder --
Only a Breeze will sigh --
Ah Little Rose -- how easy
For such as thee to die!
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by
Emily Dickinson
Not probable -- The barest Chance
Not probable -- The barest Chance --
A smile too few -- a word too much
And far from Heaven as the Rest --
The Soul so close on Paradise --
What if the Bird from journey far --
Confused by Sweets -- as Mortals -- are --
Forget the secret of His wing
And perish -- but a Bough between --
Oh, Groping feet --
Oh Phantom Queen!
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by
Emily Dickinson
Could live -- did live
Could live -- did live --
Could die -- did die --
Could smile upon the whole
Through faith in one he met not,
To introduce his soul.
Could go from scene familiar
To an untraversed spot --
Could contemplate the journey
With unpuzzled heart --
Such trust had one among us,
Among us not today --
We who saw the launching
Never sailed the Bay!
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by
Hermann Hesse
On A Journey
Don't be downcast, soon the night will come,
When we can see the cool moon laughing in secret
Over the faint countryside,
And we rest, hand in hand.
Don't be downcast, the time will soon come
When we can have rest. Our small crosses will stand
On the bright edge of the road together,
And rain fall, and snow fall,
And the winds come and go.
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by
George William Russell
The Mid-World
THIS is the red, red region
Your heart must journey through:
Your pains will here be legion
And joy be death for you.
Rejoice to-day: to-morrow
A turning tide shall flow
Through infinite tones of sorrow
To reach an equal woe.
You pass by love unheeding
To gain the goal you long—
But my heart, my heart is bleeding:
I cannot sing this song.
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by
Ingeborg Bachmann
Stay
Now the journey is ending,
the wind is losing heart.
Into your hands it's falling,
a rickety house of cards.
The cards are backed with pictures
displaying all the world.
You've stacked up all the images
and shuffled them with words.
And how profound the playing
that once again begins!
Stay, the card you're drawing
is the only world you'll win.
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by
Emily Dickinson
Our journey had advanced --
Our journey had advanced --
Our feet were almost come
To that odd Fork in Being's Road --
Eternity -- by Term --
Our pace took sudden awe --
Our feet -- reluctant -- led --
Before -- were Cities -- but Between --
The Forest of the Dead --
Retreat -- was out of Hope --
Behind -- a Sealed Route --
Eternity's White Flag -- Before --
And God -- at every Gate --
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by
Emily Dickinson
I cannot buy it -- 'tis not sold --
I cannot buy it -- 'tis not sold --
There is no other in the World --
Mine was the only one
I was so happy I forgot
To shut the Door And it went out
And I am all alone --
If I could find it Anywhere
I would not mind the journey there
Though it took all my store
But just to look it in the Eye --
"Did'st thou?" "Thou did'st not mean," to say,
Then, turn my Face away.
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by
Walter de la Mare
Winter
Clouded with snow
The cold winds blow,
And shrill on leafless bough
The robin with its burning breast
Alone sings now.
The rayless sun,
Day's journey done,
Sheds its last ebbing light
On fields in leagues of beauty spread
Unearthly white.
Thick draws the dark,
And spark by spark,
The frost-fires kindle, and soon
Over that sea of frozen foam
Floats the white moon.
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by
Dylan Thomas
Twenty-Four Years
Twenty-four years remind the tears of my eyes.
(Bury the dead for fear that they walk to the grave in labour.)
In the groin of the natural doorway I crouched like a tailor
Sewing a shroud for a journey
By the light of the meat-eating sun.
Dressed to die, the sensual strut begun,
With my red veins full of money,
In the final direction of the elementary town
I advance as long as forever is.
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by
Wang Wei
Farewell
I have got my leave. Bid me farewell, my brothers!
I bow to you all and take my departure.
Here I give back the keys of my door
---and I give up all claims to my house.
I only ask for last kind words from you.
We were neighbors for long,
but I received more than I could give.
Now the day has dawned
and the lamp that lit my dark corner is out.
A summons has come and I am ready for my journey.
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by
Margaret Atwood
Provisions
What should we have taken
with us? We never could decide
on that; or what to wear,
or at what time of
year we should make the journey
So here we are in thin
raincoats and rubber boots
On the disastrous ice, the wind rising
Nothing in our pockets
But a pencil stub, two oranges
Four Toronto streetcar tickets
and an elastic band holding a bundle
of small white filing cards
printed with important facts.
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by
Emily Dickinson
One Crucifixion is recorded -- only --
One Crucifixion is recorded -- only --
How many be
Is not affirmed of Mathematics --
Or History --
One Calvary -- exhibited to Stranger --
As many be
As persons -- or Peninsulas --
Gethsemane --
Is but a Province -- in the Being's Centre --
Judea --
For Journey -- or Crusade's Achieving --
Too near --
Our Lord -- indeed -- made Compound Witness --
And yet --
There's newer -- nearer Crucifixion
Than That --
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by
Walter de la Mare
Alone
Over the fence, the dead settle in
for a journey. Nine o'clock.
You are alone for the first time
today. Boys asleep. Husband out.
A beer bottle sweats in your hand,
and sea lavender clogs the air
with perfume. Think of yourself.
Your arms rest with nothing to do
after weeks spent attending to others.
Your thoughts turn to whether
butter will last the week, how much
longer the car can run on its partial tank of gas.
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