gothic poetry

be patient, life, when love is at the gate
if i had known how narrow a prison is love
they in the darkness gather and ask
where shall i find you
storm
i saw him once before
babylon-where i go dreaming
you are my companion
in new york harbor
uplifting, as the wind blew
rocked in the cradle of the deep
over the rooftops race the shadows of clouds
the rain was over, and the brilliant air
suddenly, out of dark and leafy ways