My soul to Death's bedchamber do thou light,
And give me, be the field or lost or won,
Rest from the fight!
FAREWELL TO ARCADY
With sombre mien, the Evening gray
Comes nagging at the heels of Day,
And driven faster and still faster
Before the dusky-mantled Master,
The light fades from her fearful eyes,
She hastens, stumbles, falls, and dies.