er than I have been in years; and soon
I shall feel young again as in my youth,
My glorious youth--life's one great priceless boon.

"O youth, youth, youth! O God! that golden time,
When proud and glad I laughed the hours away.
Why, there's no sacrifice (perhaps no crime)
I'd pause at, could it make me young to-day.

"But I'm not _old_! I grew--just ill, somehow;
Grew stiff of limb, and weak, and dim of sight.
It was but sickness. I am better now,
Oh, vastly better, ever since last night.

"And I could weep warm floods of happy tears
To think my strength is coming back at last,
For I have dreamed of such an hour for years,
As I lay thinking of my glorious past.

"You shake your head? Why, man, if you were sane
I'd strike you to my feet, I would, in truth.
How dare you tell me that my hopes are vain?
How dare you say I have outlived my youth?

"'In heaven I may regain it'? Oh, be still!
I want no heaven but what my glad youth gave.
Its long, bright hours, its rapture and its thrill--
O youth, youth, youth! it is my _youth_ I crave.

"There is no heaven! There's nothing but a deep
And yawning grave from which I shrink in fear.
I am not sure of even rest or sleep;
Perhaps we lie and _think_ as I have here.

"Think, think, think, think, as we lie there and rot,
And hear the young above us laugh in glee.
How dare you say I'm dying! _I am not_.
I would curse God if such a thing could be.

"Why, see me stand! why, hear this strong, full breath--
Dare you repeat that silly, base untruth?"
A cry--a fall--the silence known as death
Hushed his wild words. Well, has he found his youth?

UNDER THE SHEET

What a terrible night! Does the Night, I wonder--
The Night, with her black veil down to her feet
Like an ordained nun, know what lies under
That awful, motionless, snow-white sheet?
The winds seem crazed, and, wildly howling,
Over the sad earth blindly go.
Do they and the dark clouds over them scowling,
Do they dream or know?

Why, here in the room, not a week or over--
Tho' it must be a week, not more than one--
(I cannot recken of late or discover
When one day is ended or one begun),
But here in this room we were laughing lightly,
And glad was the measure our two hearts beat;
And the royal face that was smiling so brightly
Lies under that sheet.

I know not why--it is strange and fearful,
But I am afraid of h