Farewell to the shade
The whispering sounds
Sing in the leaves
My fugitive years
The perishing pleasures
The nightly visits
Your constant flow of love
A momentary dream
The hearse
Turning from my nursery window
Such cause of terror
In an empty sound
Of demons uttered
That seem by tongues
From earth or hell
Those dreadful yells the soul can hear.;

Gypsy