The Moon Looks Upon Many Night Flowers;

I Am Athirst For God, The Living God.

And Bitter Waxed The Fray; Brother With Brother Spake No Word When They Met In The Way.

The Red Sahara In An Angry Glow, / With Amber Fogs, Across Its Hollows Trailed / Long Strings Of Camels, Gloomy-eyed And Slow.

For Hearts Where Wakened Love Doth Lurk, How Fine, How Blest A Thing Is Work! For Work Does Good When Reasons Fail.

I Don't Want To Die. But I Want To Be Dead.