Speak On, But Be Not

O, Here Will I Set Up My Everlasting Rest, And Shake The Yoke Of Inauspicious Stars From This World-wearied Flesh. Eyes, Look Your Last! Arms, Take Your Last Embrace! And, Lips, O You The Doors Of Breath, Seal With A Righteous Kiss A Dateless Bargain To Engrossing Death!

I Have Pursued Her, As Love Hath Pursued Me

For What I Will, I Will, And There An End.

Now Entertain Conjecture Of A Time When Creeping Murmur And The Poring Dark Fills The Wide Vessel Of The Universe.

My Long Sickness Of Health And Living Now Begins To Mend, And Nothing Brings Me All Things.