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  • The very last thing I read, about an hour ago, was this. Not A Novel.

    **Be near me when my light is low,
    When the blood creeps, and the nerves prick
    And tingle; and the heart is sick,
    And all the wheels of Being slow. **
    **Be near me when the sensuous frame
    Is rack’d with pangs that conquer trust;
    And Time, a maniac scattering dust,
    And Life, a Fury slinging flame. **
    **Be near me when my faith is dry,
    And men the flies of latter spring,
    That lay their eggs, and sting and sing
    ****And weave their petty cells and die.
    ****Be near me when I fade away,
    To point the term of human strife,
    And on the low dark verge of life
    The twilight of eternal day. **

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