Page:New poems and variant readings, Stevenson, 1918.djvu/79

This page has been proofread, but needs to be validated.
59
WHEN THE NUMBER OF MY YEARS

Fife, fife, into the golden air, O bird,
And sing the morning in;
For the old days are past
And new days begin.

 

NOW WHEN THE NUMBER OF MY YEARS

Now when the number of my years
Is all fulfilled, and I
From sedentary life
Shall rouse me up to die,
Bury me low and let me lie
Under the wide and starry sky.
Joying to live, I joyed to die,
Bury me low and let me lie.


Clear was my soul, my deeds were free,
Honour was called my name,
I fell not back from fear
Nor followed after fame.
Bury me low and let me lie
Under the wide and starry sky.
Joying to live, I joyed to die,
Bury me low and let me lie.