 | "Until the Day Break," |  |
iv
“Lie there, my pen! Only a little longer,
And then thy work shall be for ever done:
Death in these pulses daily groweth stronger;
Life's ruby drops are oozing one by one;
The dreams that flowed through thee shall soon be dreamed alone.”
My Old Letters.
And then thy work shall be for ever done:
Death in these pulses daily groweth stronger;
Life's ruby drops are oozing one by one;
The dreams that flowed through thee shall soon be dreamed alone.”
My Old Letters.
| "Until the Day Break," | |