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Gone is he now.One flower the lessIs left to makeFor thee less loneEarth's wilderness,Where thouMust still live on.What hath been, ne'erMay be again.Yet oft of old,To cheat despair,Tales false and fairIn vainOf death were told.O vain belief!O'erweening dreams!Trust not fond hope,Nor think that blissWhich neither seems,Nor is,Aught else than grief.
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These lists, which include poetical works only, are in some cases incomplete.
Footnote 1:
Reprinted in
The Bibelot
for 1909. T. B. Mosher, Portland, Maine, U.S.A.
return to footnote mark
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