Thomas Bailey Aldrich

Dear Lord, though I be changed to senseless clay,
And serve the Potter as he turn his wheel,
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Dear Lord, though I be changed to senseless clay,
And serve the Potter as he turn his wheel,
I thank Thee for the gracious gift of tears!

No bird has ever uttered note That was not in some first bird's throat; Since Eden's freshness and man's read more

No bird has ever uttered note That was not in some first bird's throat; Since Eden's freshness and man's fall No rose has been original.

Have you not heard the poets tell
How came the dainty Baby Bell
Into this world of read more

Have you not heard the poets tell
How came the dainty Baby Bell
Into this world of ours?

But I, in the chilling twilight stand and wait
At the portcullis, at thy castle gate,
Longing read more

But I, in the chilling twilight stand and wait
At the portcullis, at thy castle gate,
Longing to see the charmed door of dreams
Turn on its noiseless hinges, delicate sleep!

Somewhere, in desolate, wind-swept space,
In twilight land, in no man's land,
Two hurrying shapes met face read more

Somewhere, in desolate, wind-swept space,
In twilight land, in no man's land,
Two hurrying shapes met face to face
And bade each other stand.
"And who are you?" cried one, a-gape,
Shuddering in the glimmering light.
"I know not," said the second shape,
"I only died last night."