I Don't Want To Die.

Reign, And Keep Life In This Our Deep Desireour Only Greatness Is That We Aspire.

The Moon Is Bleached As White As Wool, And Just Dropping Under; Every Star Is Gone But Three, And They Hang Far Asunder,-- There's A Sea-ghost All In Gray, A Tall Shape Of Wonder!

And The Guelder Rose In A Great Stillness Dropped, And Ever Dropped, Her Wealth About Her Feet.

How Gently Rock Yon Poplars High Against The Reach Of Primrose Sky With Heaven's Pale Candles Stored.

When Our Thoughts Are Born, Though They Be Good And Humble, One Should Mind How They Are Reared, Or Some Will Go Astray And Shame Their Mother.