I Shall Be But A

In The Evening, I Walked Alone Down To The Lake By The Side Of Crow Park After Sunset And Saw The Solemn Coloring Of Night Draw On, The Last Gleam Of Sunshine Fading Away On The Hilltops, The Seep Serene Of The Asters, And The Long Shadows Of The Mountains Thrown Across Them, Till They Nearly Touched The Hithermost Shore. At Distance Hear The Murmur Of Many Waterfalls Not Audible In The Day-time. Wished For The Moon, But She Was Dark To Me And Silent, Hid In Her Vacant Interlunar Cave.

Not All That Tempts Your Wandering Eyes And Heedless Hearts, Is Lawful Prize; Nor All That Glisters Gold.

From Toil He Wins His Spirits Light, From Busy Day The Peaceful Night; Rich, From The Very Want Of Wealth, In Heaven's Best Treasures, Peace And Health.

Thought Would Destroy Their Paradise.

The Paths Of Glory Lead But To The Grave.