Turn Down the Lamp

Turn down the lamp; my life is done. The fitful moments drift to ease — Rosemary for the dreams that died. And mignonette for cherished hopes.

Turn down the lamp; my soul gains life; I rise above the narrow pale Of cities bought with gold and slime, I spread my sorrow strengthened wings Above the armies of the world, In quest of kingdoms built in youth.

The hour of death that men call life Is closing as a troubled dream, The flame within my lamp is low, I seek eternal liberty. The freedom of the endless sky. Good nurse, enfold my arms. And cool the fever of my brow, My hour has come, turn down the lamp.