And The Guelder Rose In A Great

What Change Has Made The Pastures Sweet And Reached The Daisies At My Feet, And Cloud That Wears A Golden Hem? This Lovely World, The Hills, The Sward-- They All Look Fresh, As If Our Lord But Yesterday Had Finished Them.

O Sleep! O Sleep! Do Not Forget Me. Sometimes Come And Sweep, Now I Have Nothing Left, Thy Healing Hand Over The Lids That Crave Thy Visits Bland, Thou Kind, Thou Comforting One. For I Have Seen His Face, As I Desired, And All My Story Is Done. O, I Am Tired.

I Don't Want To Die. But I Want To Be Dead.

The Moon Is Bleached As White As Wool, And Just Dropping Under; Every Star Is Gone But Three, And They Hang Far Asunder,-- There's A Sea-ghost All In Gray, A Tall Shape Of Wonder!

The Red Sahara In An Angry Glow, / With Amber Fogs, Across Its Hollows Trailed / Long Strings Of Camels, Gloomy-eyed And Slow.