The red range heaves and compulsory sways, ah see! in the flush of a march Softly-impulsive advancing as water towards a weir from the arch Of shadow emerging as blood emerges from inward shades of our night...
We overstate the ills of life, and take Imagination (given us to bring down The choirs of singing angels overshone By God's clear glory) down our earth to rake...
The gloomy hours of silence wake Remembrance and her train, And phantoms through the fancies chase The mem'ries that remain; And hidden in the dark embrace Of days that now are gone,...
Who has gone farthest? For lo! have not I gone farther? And who has been just? For I would be the most just person of the earth; And who most cautious? For I would be more cautious;...
The shades of night were falling fast, As through an Alpine village passed A youth, who bore, 'mid snow and ice, A banner with the strange device, Excelsior!
Out of the mercury shimmer of glass Over these daguerreotypes The balloon-like spread of a skirt of silk emerges With its little figure of flowers. And the enameled glair of parted hair...
I wonder, can the night go by; Can this shot arrow of travel fly Shaft-golden with light, sheer into the sky Of a dawned to-morrow, Without ever sleep delivering us...
Where the grave-deeps rot, where the grave-dews rust, They dug, crying, 'Earth to earth', Crying, 'Ashes to ashes and dust to dust', And what are my poor prayers worth?...