Quotes from barker elsa iv

Do not fear death; but stay on earth as long as you can.

Life can be so free here! There is none of that machinery of living which makes people on earth such slaves. In our world a man is held only by his thoughts. If they are free, he is free.

And after all our toils and dreams and prayers, 'Tis only Love for which the future cares; Labour and fame are steps along Love's way, And art is but the garment that he wears.

Deep Love is slow of speech and void of art; Silence and timid tears reveal his heart. But shallow Love is ever eloquent To mouth his meagre passion -- and depart.

Give me to drink the poison of thy breast-- Dark cruel wine from grapes of passion pressed-- Till I am drunk beyond delirium's dream In that dim utter deep where men may rest.

Even a cricket knows the difference between a man and an angel; For a man looks not at the ground whereon he walks, he crushes many a life; While the passing of an angel leaves all the world a-thrill.

You can do so much for me by lending me your hand occasionally, that I wonder why you shrink from it.

I am often merry at the jests of the constellations. Did you fancy that the stars were always serious? Only the dull never laugh, and the stars are very bright.

I know that I am a charmer, for when I wait Time always stands still.

I love to love, but I know not jealousy. If you find another fairer than I, I shall weary of you and go love him -- So beware, if you would hold me!

Thy love is like deep waters all around-- Warm pulsing waters, in whose brooding sound The lone wail of my heart is lulled with dreams, And the far clamour of the world is drowned.

Immortal love is fearless, and leaves the key of its door on the outside.

For me the cosmic aeons lie complete, O Love, between thy forehead and thy feet!

Our sorrows are the golden grain Of the great reaper--Art.

There are horrors out here—far worse than the horrors on earth.

Oh, kill me with thy kisses! Drain me dry Of pain and life, nor leave me breath to sigh; Yea, feed my spirit, starving at thy lips, Thy sweet perfidious poison ere I die!

Is there no anodyne despair may buy, No draught of dreamless sleep for such as I? Discordant singer in the choir of Love, Who neither cares to live nor dares to die.