Page:The Poetical Works of William Motherwell, 1849.djvu/240



The world is waxing old, Heaven dull and cold; Nought lacketh here a close Save human woes. Yet they too have an end,— Death is man's friend: Doomed for a while, his heart must go on breaking Day after day, But light, love, life,—all,—all at last forsaking, Clay claspeth clay!