'Guess now who holds thee?'-'Death,' I said. But there The silver answer rang-'Not Death, but Love.'

Knowledge by suffering entereth, And life is perfected by death.

Thou hast thy calling to some palace-floor, Most gracious singer of high poems! where The dancers will break footing, from the care Of watching up thy pregnant…

And Marlowe, Webster, Fletcher, Ben, Whose fire-hearts sowed our furrows when The world was worthy of such men.

The seasons come and the seasons go, the summer fruit and the winter snow, but here we are, and here we stay - until the time to go away. Ah, they say, there's…

Star of resplendent front! Thy glorious eye Shines on me still from out yon clouded sky.

Cease, cease, wayward Mortal! I dare not unveil The shadows that float o'er Eternity's vale; Nought waits for the good but a spirit of Love, That will hail the…