A Mood

L3 lam onntont to si r all .Iny Btid rtreanii To let iny i:n;k drift idly down the stream, Wil li half-closod eyeB, tmii folded, uscless hands, To ilrüt by forcst, glaJe, nnd BmiliTipr lands. TIjc Spi is rldwirtng on the cnscr eivth, 1 'lic hours are throbliijig i itl) Us hnpjiy hlrth; ] ut I-I would ii ihi}.' sli.'uia O, And cmiip no moro with bloom and song ml fc-liw. I !o not -are for e Inr np In the ifcy, Kor roies in tho duat, nor bird thnt fly; Thej re o full of lif tífj tiro me mort, J.ikíi sea thi mosti upon a barren shoro. I da not rare íor diziy mountain he;;ht3 IVlicre sima eternal ibine. The moonlíM nif !ite Biing me moro icace. The -world eits in tho sun. Añil I with all the worlrl have, baplF, done. I am too tired to emilo. I do not -are Tor Ufe, or deatli, or love, or dim dCH)ir: 1 ara so tired lli Detli woald tía :i friend f it brought rest- sweet rest liiut woald not end.