[t]hey Stretch You On A Table. Then

And Lo, The Hospital, Gray, Quiet, Old, Where Life And Death Like Friendly Chafferers Meet.

Now, To Read Poetry At All Is To Have An Ideal Anthology Of One's Own, And In That Possession To Be Incapable Of Content With The Anthologies Of All The World Besides.

So Be My Passing! My Task Accomplished And The Long Day Done, My Wages Taken, And In My Heart Some Late Lark Singing, Let Me Be Gathered In The Quiet West, The Sundown Splendid And Serene, Death.

A Late Lark Twitters From The Quiet Skies.

Life - Life - Life! 'tis The Sole Great Thing This Side Of Death, Heart On Heart In The Wonder Of Spring!