Cambell Poems

Emily Ma Belle

Because I could not stop for Death--
the reaper choked my every breath,
silence now! he would exclaim,
your life has been a carnival game--

He cracked his whip, on the march--
we passed Cambell--the London arch,
that lovely place that fed my youth,
his house of mirrors, my honest truth--

Above our heads, a stirring cloud--
the distance fading, a ghostly crowd,
along the Thames he would confide,
that I would someday be his bride--

Wintery winds were like his hands--
he grew colder, and gave commands,
Where was heaven? that saving light,
Where was hell? this torturous night--

The horses screamed, a slavish pain--
my body trembling from the rain,
his laugh was maddening, like his stare,
eternity his proposal, my hearts despair--

Emily, tu sera toujours ma belle--
mon amour brulera comme une chandelle.
The words he spoke, I did not believe,
his love a mystery, I could not conceive--

The carriage vanished, and none did see,
how death did take the best of me.