Where All Life Dies Death Lives.

Lifted Up So High I Disdained Subjection, And Thought One Step Higher Would Set Me Highest.

Hide Me From Day's Garish Eye, While The Bee With Honied Thigh, That At Her Flowery Work Doth Sing, And The Waters Murmuring With Such Consort As They Keep, Entice The Dewy-feathered Sleep.

I Will Not Deny But That The Best Apology Against False Accusers Is Silence And Sufferance, And Honest Deeds Set Against Dishonest Words.

Where Glowing Embers Through The Room Teach Light To Counterfeit A Gloom.

The Spirits Perverse With Easy Intercourse Pass To And Fro, To Tempt Or Punish Mortals.