I long for the Island of Songs across this heaving Sea of Shouts.

320
The prelude of the night is commenced in the music of the sunset,
in its solemn hymn to the ineffable dark.

321
I have scaled the peak and found no shelter in fame's bleak and
barren height. Lead me, my Guide, before the light fades, into
the valley of quiet where life's harvest mellows into golden
wisdom.

322
Things look phantastic in this dimness of the dusk--the spires
whose bases are lost in the dark and tree tops like blots of ink.
I shall wait for the morning and wake up to see thy city in the
light.

323
I have suffered and despaired and known death and I am glad that
I am in this great world.

324
There are tracts in my life that are bare and silent. They are
the open spaces where my busy days had their light and air.

325
Release me from my unfulfilled past clinging to me from behind
making death difficult.