Should I Not Hear, As I Lie

He Whose First Emotion, On The View Of An Excellent Work, Is To Undervalue Or Depreciate It, Will Never Have One Of His Own To Show.

Should I Not Hear, As I Lie Down In Dust, The Horns Of Glory Blowing Above My Burial?

The Wind Shrieks, The Wind Grieves; It Dashes The Leaves On Walls, It Whirls Then Again; And The Enormous Sleeper Vaguely And Stupidly Dreams And Desires To Stir, To Resist A Ghost Of Pain.

Variations: Ii Green Light, From The Moon, Pours Over The Dark Blue Trees, Green Light From The Autumn Moon Pours On The Grass ... Green Light Falls On The Goblin Fountain Where Hesitant Lovers Meet And Pass. They Laugh In The Moonlight, Touching Hands, They Move Like Leaves On The Wind ... I Remember An Autumn Night Like This, And Not So Long Ago, When Other Lovers Were Blown Like Leaves, Before The Coming Of Snow.

One Is Least Sure Of One's Self, Sometimes, When One Is Most Positive.