The Words Of Mercury Are Harsh After

Comfort's In Heaven, And We Are On The Earth

Ay, But To Die And Go We Know Not Where; To Lie In Cold Obstrution And To Rot; This Sensible Warm Motion To Become A Kneaded Clod; And The Delighted Spirit To Bathe In Fiery Floods Or To Reside In Thrilling Regions Of Thick-ribbed Ice; To Be Imprison'd In The Viewless Winds, And Blown With Restless Violence Round About The Pendant World.

Some Smack Of Age In You, Some Relish Of The Saltness Of Time.

I Am Disgraced, Impeached, And Baffled Here, Pierced To The Soul With Slander's Venomed Spear.

There's Rosemary And Rue. These Keep Seeming And Savor All The Winter Long. Grace And Remembrance Be To You.