by Emily Dickinson Wild Nights — Wild Nights! Were I with thee Wild Nights should be Our luxury! Futile — the Winds — To a Heart in port — Done with the Compass — Done with the Chart! Rowing in Eden — Ah, the Sea! Might I but moor — Tonight — In Thee!
nothing gold can stay
by Robert Frost Nature’s first green is gold Her hardest hue to hold. Her early leaf’s a flower; But only so an hour. Then leaf subsides to leaf. So Eden sank to grief, So dawn goes down to day. Nothing gold can stay.
to make a prairie
By Emily Dickinson To make a prairie it takes a clover and one bee, One clover, and a bee. And revery. The revery alone will do, If bees are few.