• Yet, o my friend—pale conjurer, I call
    Thee friend—bring, bring the dead not back again,
    Since for the tears, the darkness and the pain
    Of unrequited friendship—for the gall
    That hatred mingles with fond love—for all
    Life’s endless turmoil, bitterness and bane,
    Thou hast given dreamless rest. Still let the rain,
    And sunshine, and the dews...