My Soul Is Full Of Longing For

The Twilight Is Sad And Cloudy, The Wind Blows Wild And Free, And Like The Wings Of Sea-birds Flash The White Caps Of The Sea.

Feeling Is Deep And Still; And The Word That Floats On The Surface Is As The Tossing Buoy, That Betrays Where The Anchor Is Hidden.

What Discord We Should Bring Into The Universe If Our Prayers Were All Answered. Then We Should Govern The World And Not God. And Do You Think We Should Govern It Better? It Gives Me Only Pain When I Hear The Long, Wearisome Petitions Of People Asking For They Know Not What. . . . Thanks-giving With A Full Heart-and The Rest Silence And Submission To The Divine Will!

Yes, We Must Ever Be Friends; And Of All Who Offer You Friendship Let Me Be Ever The First, The Truest, The Nearest And Dearest.

O Ye Dead Poets, Who Are Living Still Immortal In Your Verse, Though Life Be Fled, And Ye, O Living Poets, Who Are Dead Though Ye Are Living, If Neglect Can Kill, Tell Me If In The Darkest Hours Of Ill, With Drops Of Anguish Falling Fast And Red From The Sharp Crown Of Thorns Upon Your Head, Ye Were Not Glad Your Errand To Fulfill?