IT WAS NOT DEATHby: Emily Dickinson It was not death, for I stood up,And all the dead lie down.It was not night, for all the bellsPut out their tongues for noon.It was not frost, for on my fleshI felt siroccos crawl,Nor fire, for just my marble feetCould keep a chancel cool.And yet it tasted like them all,The figures I have seenSet orderly for burialReminded me of mine,As if my life were shavenAnd fitted to a frameAnd could not breathe without a key,And 'twas like midnight, some,When everything that ticked has stoppedAnd space stares all around,Or grisly frosts, first autumn morns,Repeal the beating ground;But most like chaos, stopless, cool,Without a chance, or spar,Or even a report of landTo justify despair

Blackmore's NightOlde Village LanternDon’t shed a tear for me, I stand aloneThis path of destiny is all my ownOnce in the hands of fate, there is no choiceAn echo on the wind, you’ll hear my voiceSome choose to fall behind, some choose to leadSome choose a golden path, laden with greedBut it’s the noble heart that makes you strongAnd in that part I’m with you all alongThe old village lantern is calling me onwardsLeading wherever I goThe old village lantern, a light in the darkBringing me closer to homeSo when you think of me, do so with prideHonour and bravery rode by my sideAnd in your memory, I will remainI will forever be, within the flameNow at the journey’s end, we’ve travelled farAnd all we have to show are battle scarsBut in the love we share, we will transcendAnd in that love, our journey never endsDon’t shed a tear for me, I stand aloneThis path of destiny is all my ownOnce in the hands of fate, there is no choiceAn echo on the wind, you’ll hear my voice

Blackmore's NightGhost Of a RoseThe valley green was so sereneIn the middle ran a stream so blueA maiden fair, in despair, once had met her true love there and she told himShe would say"Promise me , when you see, a white rose you'll think of meI love you soNever let goI will be your ghost of a rose"Her eyes believed in mysteriesShe would lay amongst the leaves of amberHer spirit wild, heart of a child, yet gentle still and quiet and mild and he loved herWhen she would say"Promise me , when you see, a white rose you'll think of meI love you soNever let goI will be your ghost of a rose"When all was done, she turned to runDancing to the setting sun as he watched herAnd ever more he thought he sawA glimpse of her upon the moors foreverHe'd hear her say"Promise me , when you see, a white rose you'll think of meI love you soNever let goI will be your ghost of a rose"