Page:Poems and lyrics of the joy of earth.djvu/44

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Last night returning from my twilight walk I met the gray mist Death, whose eyeless brow Was bent on me, and from his hand of chalk He reached me flowers as from a withered bough: O Death, what bitter nosegays givest thou!

Death said, I gather, and pursued his way. Another stood by me, a shape in stone, Sword-hacked and iron-stained, with breasts of clay, And metal veins that sometimes fiery shone: O Life, how naked and how hard when known!