C.D. Warner, et al., comp.
The Library of the World’s Best Literature. An Anthology in Thirty Volumes. 1917.

Death

HO, Death, Boatman Death, it is time we set sail;

Up anchor, away from this region of blight:

Though ocean and sky are like ink for the gale,

Thou knowest our hearts are consoled with the light.

Thy poison pour out—it will comfort us well;

Yea—for the fire that burns in our brain

We would plunge through the depth, be it heaven or hell,

Through the fathomless gulf—the new vision to gain.