If we are really dead, or still may fly.

{26}

Cheat cruel Fate, keep still like death, move not,

Flutter not; then unfold thy wings, and go

Thy way, the coming morn is full of life,

Bury thy head in flowers, in the dew,

The sun is rising and thou art alive!

{27}

{27}

 REST

AND did they say that rest was not so sweet,

A

Old age a sadness, no repose at all?

Then have they quite forgotten. They remember

No more the heartbreak of their early youth,

The battle fought for life, the angry clouds

That hid the sun, till he would shine no more,

The anguish of their nights, that made their bed

A furnace and a rack. They say: 'Twas but

A nightmare! And they smile, and yet that smile

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