The Alchemist's Petition

    Thou wilt not sentence to eternal life
    My soul that prays that it may sleep and sleep
    Like a white statue dropped into the deep,
    Covered with sand, covered with chests of gold,
    And slave-bones, tossed from many a pirate hold.

    But for this prayer thou wilt not bind in Hell
    My soul, that shook with love for Fame and Truth -
    In such unquenched desires consumed his youth -
    Let me turn dust, like dead leaves in the Fall,
    Or wood that lights an hour your knightly hall -
                Amen.