It seemeth such a little way to me
Across to that strange country—the Beyond;
And yet, not strange, for it has grown to be
The home of those of whom I am so fond,
They make it seem familiar and most dear,
...
|
The year has but one June, dear friend; |
Changed? Yes, I will confess it—I have changed. |
When my blood flows calm as a purling river, |
In the midnight of darkness and terror, |
Said Death to Passion |
The band was playing a waltz-quadrille, |