darkwell
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'Great Eternity Our little life is but a gust That bends the branches of thy tree And trails it's blossoms in the dust  Take them o'Grave and let them lie Folded upon thy narrow shelves As garments my 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 it's blossoms in the dust  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'Great Eternity Our little life is but a gust That bends the branches of thy tree And trails it's blossoms in the dust