Page:Oxford Book of English Verse 1250-1918.djvu/1060

 WILLIAM ERNEST HENLEY

It matters not how strait the gate,

How charged with punishments the scroll, I am the master of my fate:

I am the captain of my soul.

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��854 Margarita? Sorori

LATE lark twitters from the quiet skies:

And from the west, Where the sun, his day's work ended, Lingers as in content, There falls on the old, gray city An influence luminous and serene, A shining peace.

The smoke ascends

In a rosy-and-golden haze. The spires

Shine and aie changed. In the valley

Shadows rise. The lark sings on. The suu,

Closing his benediction,

Sinks, and the darkening air

Thrills with a sense of the triumphing night

Night with her train of stars

And her great gift of sleep.

So be my passing'

My task accomplish J d and the long day done, My wages taken, and in my heart Some late lark singing, Let me be gather'd to the quiet West, The sundown splendid and serene, Death.

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