Enough Rope/Rainy Night
Rainy Night
GHOSTS of all my lovely sins, Who attend too well my pillow,Gay the wanton rain begins; Hide the limp and tearful willow,
Turn aside your eyes and ears, Trail away your robes of sorrow.You shall have my further years,— You shall walk with me to-morrow.
I am sister to the rain; Fey and sudden and unholy,Petulant at the windowpane, Quickly lost, remembered slowly.
I have lived with shades, a shade; I am hung with graveyard flowers.Let me be to-night arrayed In the silver of the showers.
Every fragile thing shall rust; When another April passesI may be a furry dust, Sifting through the brittle grasses.
All sweet sins shall be forgot Who will live to tell their siring?Hear me now, nor let me rot Wistful still, and still aspiring.
Ghosts of dear temptations, heed; I am frail, be you forgiving.See you not that I have need To be living with the living?
Sail, to-night, the Styx’s breast; Glide among the dim processionsOf the exquisite unblest. Spirits of my shared transgressions.
Roam with young Persephone, Plucking poppies for your slumber . . .With the morrow, there shall be One more wraith among your number.