A Placid Man's Epitaph

As for my life, I've led it
With fair content and credit:
It said: ‘Take this.’ I took it.
Said: ‘Leave.’ And I forsook it.
If I had done without it
None would have cared about it,
Or said: ‘One has refused it
Who might have meetly used it.’

Hope and Joy

If hope grew on a bush,
And joy grew on a tree,
What a nosegay for the plucking
There would be!
But oh, in windy autumn
When frail flowers wither,
What should we do for hope and joy,
Fading together?

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