To Shut Your Eyes Is

Death Is A Supple Suitor, That Wins At Last. It Is A Stealthy Wooing; Conducted First By Pallid Innuendos And Dim Approach, But Brave At Last With Bugles.

This Is The Hour Of Lead- Remembered, If Outlived, As Freezing Persons, Recollect The Snow- First-chill-then Stupor- Then The Letting Go---

Nods From The Gilded Pointers - Nods From The Seconds Slim - Decades Of Arrogance Between The Dial Life - And Him -

I Am Out With Lanterns, Looking For Myself.

The Sweets Of Pillage Can Be Known To No One But The Thief, Compassion For Integrity Is His Divinest Grief.