Chapter 100 DYING.

The sun kept setting, setting still;

No hue of afternoon

Upon the village I perceived, -

From house to house 't was noon.

The dusk kept dropping, dropping still;

No dew upon the grass,

But only on my forehead stopped,

And wandered in my face.

My feet kept drowsing, drowsing still,

My fingers were awake;

Yet why so litt