And Some Win Peace Who

He Got Out Of Bed And Peeped Through The Blinds. To The East And Opposite To Him Gardens And An Apple-orchard Lay, And There In Strange Liquid Tranquility Hung The Morning Star, And Rose, Rilling Into The Dusk Of Night The First Grey Of Dawn. The Street Beneath Its Autumn Leaves Was Vacant, Charmed, Deserted.

His Are The Quiet Steeps Of Dreamland, The Waters Of No-more-pain; His Ram's Bell Rings 'neath An Arch Of Stars, "rest, Rest, And Rest Again.

A Harvest Mouse Goes Scampering By, With Silver Claws And Silver Eye; And Moveless Fish In The Water Gleam, By Silver Reeds In A Silver Stream.

After All, What Is Every Man? A Horde Of Ghosts - Like A Chinese Nest Of Boxes - Oaks That Were Acorns That Were Oaks. Death Lies Behind Us, Not In Front - In Our Ancestors, Back And Back Until.

Do Diddle Di Do, Poor Jim Jay Got Stuck Fast In Yesterday.