Let us be drunk
When you are old
Beside the idle summer sea
The ways of Death are soothing and serene
We shall surely die
What is to come
Echos
Preface
To my mother
Life is bitter
O, gather me the rose
Out of the night that covers me
I am the Reaper
Praise the generous gods
Fill a glass with golden wine
We'll go no more a-roving
Madam Life's a piece in bloom
The sea is full of wandering foam
Thick is the darkness
To me at my fifth-floor window
Bring her again, O western wind
The wan sun westers, faint and slow
There is a wheel inside my head
While the west is paling
The sands are alive with sunshine
The nightingale has a lyre of gold
Your heart has trembled to my tongue
The surges gushed and sounded
We flash across the level
The West a glimmering lake of light