And straight I cried to Death: I will not die!
Earth is so fair when one remembers this;
Life is but just begun! Ah, come not yet!
The very world smiles up to kiss the sky
And in the grave one may forget—forget.
[THE SCARLET THREAD]
The sun rose dimly thro' the pallid rain,
Dear Heart—and have we strength to face the day?
The times and life alike are old and grey,
All worn with long monotonies of pain.