Page:Poetry, a magazine of verse, Volume 7 (October 1915-March 1916).djvu/175

The Death Watch Fast burn the candles—fast.
 * She is long dying.

A flower fades in the sun,
 * The other flowers are weeping;

See! Dawn's at last begun.
 * Dead—or but sleeping?

A star falls, tired from flight,
 * The other stars are flying;

It is o'erpast, the night—
 * She is long dying.