Youth and love, and hope, aweary in these years have grown and I
Walk afaint in life's rough pathway where erstwhile my feet did fly.
But I think when Azrael greets me I would fain the hour were mine
'Twixt the sunset and the even—at the summer day's decline.
So the martins through the ether in their graceful flight should be
Like the harbingers of freedom to the soul from earth set free!
NEVER AGAIN
Leave me alone to my sorrow, my sorrow,
Leave me alone, I would "mourn my dead!"