Classic Poem

I

A N OBODY

He died of nothing. Life's full cup
He dared but sip, lest it should spill;
Death dashed it down into the dark;
And he is nothing still.

II

B ELINDA

Call her a rose pressed in this book,
Away from light and gust,
Snatched from Life's brier and from June,
To crumble into dust.