I die but first I have possessed, And come what may, I have been blessed.

As winds come whispering lightly from the West, Kissing, not ruffling, the blue deep's serene.

We are all selfish and I no more trust myself than others with a good motive.

Here's a sigh to those who love me,And a smile to those who hate;And, whatever sky's above me,Here's a heart for every fate.

I have a passion for the name of "Mary," For once it was a magic sound to me, And still it half calls up the realms of fairy, Where I beheld what never was to be.

And those who saw, it did surprise, Such drops could fall from human eyes.

Exhausting thought, And hiving wisdom with each studious year.