Nay, do not dream, designer dark, Thou hast portray'd or hit thy theme entire; I, hoverer of late by this dark valley, by its confines, having glimpses of it, Here enter lists with thee, claiming my right to make a symbol too. For I have seen many wounded soldiers die, After dread suffering -- have seen their lives pass off with smiles; And I have watch'd the death-hours of the old; and seen the infant die; The rich, with all his nurses and his doctors; And then the poor, in meagerness and poverty; And I myself for long, O Death, have breath'd my every breath Amid the nearness and the silent thought of thee. And out of these and thee, I make a scene, a song (not fear of thee, Nor gloom's ravines, nor bleak, nor dark -- for I do not fear thee, Nor celebrate the struggle, or contortion, or hard-tied knot, Of the broad blessed light and perfect air, with meadows, rippling tides, and trees and flowers and grass, And the low hum of living breeze -- and in the midst God's beautiful eternal right hand, Thee, holiest minister of Heaven -- thee, envoy, usherer, guide at last of all, Rich, florid, loosener of the stricture-knot call'd life, Sweet, peaceful, welcome Death. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...ODE TO EVENING by WILLIAM COLLINS (1721-1759) SOUND THE LOUD TIMBREL; MIRIAM'S SONG by THOMAS MOORE THE PIKE by EDMUND CHARLES BLUNDEN THE SABBATH by EDWARD GEORGE EARLE LYTTON BULWER-LYTTON THE LOVE OF A WOMAN by AMELIA JOSEPHINE BURR A STRANGER MINSTREL; TO MRS. ROBINSON BEFORE HER DEATH by SAMUEL TAYLOR COLERIDGE |