I am not yours, not lost in you,
Not lost, although I long to be
Lost as a candle lit at noon,
Lost as a snowflake in the sea.
You love me, and I find you still
A spirit beautiful and bright,
Yet I am I, who long to be
Lost as a light is lost in light.
Oh plunge me deep in love -- put out
My senses, leave me deaf and blind,
Swept by the tempest of your love,
A taper in a rushing wind.
My Ideal Person
'T was just this time last year I died. I know I heard the corn, When I was carried by the farms,-- It had the tassels on.
I thought how yellow it would look When Richard went to mill; And then I wanted to get out, But something held my will.
I thought just how red apples wedged The stubble's joints between; And carts went stooping round the fields To take the pumpkins in.
I wondered which would miss me least, And when Thanksgiving came, If father'd multiply the plates
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