375 And the faint whispering of his breath 376 Tells forth tormenting dreams of death. 377 “Alas, my soul-Alas, my love-” 378 Single and slow the sad words move 379 Out of his shut...
and sober’d morning came 116 Meekly through billows:—when like taper-flame 117 Left sudden by a dallying breathof air, 118 He rose in silence, and once more ’gan fare 119 Along...
of the neurological system. - He wrote bite-sized philosophies about living with death's... sound of mu breath going in and out, let the salt wind carry me to the middle of the pond....