The Alchemist's Petition

Thou wilt not sentence to eternal life
My soul that prays that it may sleep and sleep
Like a white statue dropped into the deep,
Covered with sand, covered with chests of gold,
And slave-bones, tossed from many a pirate hold.

But for this prayer thou wilt not bind in Hell
My soul, that shook with love for Fame and Truth--
In such unquenched desires consumed his youth--
Let me turn dust, like dead leaves in the Fall,
Or wood that lights an hour your knightly hall--
Amen.