VILt
Ah! if flesh fails, may we not also fail?
May not the vulture liars gather round
Our death-beds, and drone out their dismal tale
With drawl and whine, the Galilean sound
Of snuffle and twang ? May not their stinking souls
Interpret our last sighs as penitence
When we close up the coruscating scrolls
Of our life's joy, seal up the jar of sense
To broach the starry flagon — splendid spilth?
These creeping cravens shall be circumvented;
They shall not belch their flatulence and filth
On us, or tell the world that we repented.
Come, as we strained it, let us break the tether
~Tn the last luxury — to die together !
IX
Let Death steal softly through the gate of sleep
On tiptoe ! win away the maiden life
On velvet pinions to his azure steep;
At ease, at peace, to woo her for a wife!
His white horse waiting quietly without
Let him push gently the delicious door
And take us. We have lived. How should we doubt
Or fear? we have lived well. For ever more
We must be well. The cypress cannot daunt,
Nor the acacia’thrill; we are content
To wander in the shadowy groves, to haunt
The dark delight of our own element ;
Or — could we send a messenger — to tell
Our brothers of the happiness of Hell!
— 125 —
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