I Sat in the Sunlight

I sat in the sunlight thinking of life; I sat there, dreaming of Death. And a moth alit on the sun-dial's face, And the birds sang sleepily, And the leaves stirred, And the sun lay warm on the hills, And the afternoon grew old.

So, some day I knew the birds would sing, And the leaves would stir, And the afternoon grow old-- And I would not be there. And the warmth went out of the day, And a wind blew out of the West where I sat, And the birds were still!