Courage Never To Submit Of Yield.

Awake, Arise Or Be For Ever Fall’n.

And To The Faithful: Death, The Gate Of Life.

The Timely Dew Of Sleep Now Falling With Soft Slumb'rous Weight Inclines Our Eyelids.

So Much I Feel My Genial Spirits Droop, My Hopes All Flat, Nature Within Me Seems In Her Functions Weary Of Herself.

Above The Smoke And Stir Of This Dim Spot Which Men Call Earth.