Bird-Notes by Evelyn Douglas [i.e. J. E. Barlas] |
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| I. |
| II. |
| III. |
| IV. |
| V. |
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| VII. |
| VIII. |
| IX. |
| X. |
| IX. |
| XII. |
| XIII. |
| XIV. |
| XV. |
| XVI. |
| XVII. |
| XVIII. |
| XIX. |
| XX. |
| XXI. |
| XXII. |
| XXIII. |
| XXIV. |
| XXV. |
| XXVI. |
| XXVII. |
| XXVIII. |
| XXIX. |
| XXX. | XXX.
Death. |
| XXXI. |
| XXXII. |
| XXXIII. |
| XXXIV. |
| XXXV. |
| XXXVI. |
| XXXVII. |
| XXXVIII. |
| XXXIX. |
 | Bird-Notes |  |
58
XXX. Death.
O'er none he passes,
The poor man saith,
Wild flowers and grasses
Escape not Death.
No place is holy,
However lowly:
Quickly or slowly
It feels his breath.
The poor man saith,
Wild flowers and grasses
Escape not Death.
No place is holy,
However lowly:
Quickly or slowly
It feels his breath.
On all he closes,
The rich man saith,
Lilies and roses
Are food for Death.
No palace-splendour
Can make Death tender.
Some day all render
To him their breath
The rich man saith,
Lilies and roses
Are food for Death.
No palace-splendour
Can make Death tender.
Some day all render
To him their breath
59
None he refuses,
The leper saith,
Foul weeds have uses
For this same Death.
Nothing so rusted,
So loathsome-crusted
That Death disgusted
Flees from its breath,
The leper saith,
Foul weeds have uses
For this same Death.
Nothing so rusted,
So loathsome-crusted
That Death disgusted
Flees from its breath,
At all he reaches,
The lover saith,—
Apples and peaches
And flowers for Death.
Nothing so gracious
But this audacious
With lips rapacious
Feeds on its breath.
The lover saith,—
Apples and peaches
And flowers for Death.
Nothing so gracious
But this audacious
With lips rapacious
Feeds on its breath.
| Bird-Notes | |