Poem by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

Suspiria

Take them, O Death! and bear away
Whatever thou canst call thine own!
Thine image, stamped upon this clay,
Doth give thee that, but that alone!

Take them, O Grave! and let them lie
Folded upon thy narrow shelves,
As garments by the soul laid by,
And precious only to ourselves!

Take them, O great Eternity!
Our little life is but a gust
That bends the branches of thy tree,
And trails its blossoms in the dust! 

1. Chaucer
2. Einar Tamberskelver
3. Thora of Rimol
4. Bishop Sigurd at Salten-Fiord
5. The Warden of the Cinque Ports

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