If the leaves should grieve the way I do,
Let lightning blast the bark.
If Heaven burns when I arrive,
Then let me love the dark.
If the sun shines down above my head,
But never lights the road,
Then let me live in black instead
And keep my dank abode.
When hope has latched its gate on me -
When solitude is all -
And when the thrush has flung its song,
Then let me yield and fall.
And when at last I close my eyes,
I want the world to know,
That I have said my last goodbyes,
But life has doused my glow.
Oh, reader, hear my last true words:
I never meant to fold,
But Nature squeezed me to her breast
And drowned my last resolve.