Look Homeward, Angel, Now, And Melt With

So May'st Thou Live, Till Like Ripe Fruit Thou Drop Into Thy Mother's Lap.

There Swift Return Diurnal, Merely To Officiate Light Round This Opacous Earth, This Punctual Spot.

The Stars, That Nature Hung In Heaven, And Filled Their Lamps With Everlasting Oil, Give Due Light To The Misled And Lonely Traveller.

It Is Chastity, My Brother. She That Has That Is Clad In Complete Steel.

To Many A Youth And Many A Maid, Dancing In The Chequer'd Shade.