How savage, fierce and grim! His bones are bleached and white. But what is death to him? He grins as if to bite. He mocks the fate That bade, ''Begone.'' There's fierceness stamped In ev'ry bone. Let silence settle from the midnight sky— Such silence as you've broken with your cry; The bleak wind howl, unto the ut'most verge Of this mighty waste, thy fitting dirge.
A Vision of Rest
Some day this quest Shall cease; Some day, For aye, This heart shall rest In peace. Sometimes—ofttimes—I almost feel The calm upon my senses steal, So soft, and all but hear The dead leaves rustle near And sign to be At rest with me. Though I behold The ashen branches tossing to and fro, Somehow I only vaguely know The wind is rude and cold.