AT the grim end, no prison for me Wherein my blanched mortality, Immured, shall lie, because it must, Till it resolve itself to dust. Nay, let a flame, of mystic might To make corruption clean and light, Prepare my body for its Fate, From loathly things inviolate. Then, standing by great waters, where The heavens stretch wide, and sun and air And ampleness inhabit, cast My ashes to the azure Vast. And I shall thank you, being blent With what I love, the element Of earth refined and caught away; Yea, I shall thank you and shall say: "The fierce purgation of the fire Has loosed my spirit, I aspire Toward God, I mount, elate and free, One with the wind and sky and sea." | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE POET; SONNET by AMY LOWELL MORNING IN CAMP by HERBERT BASHFORD THE DOVE by PAUL LAURENCE DUNBAR STAR-TALK by ROBERT RANKE GRAVES THYESTES, ACT 2: CHORUS by LUCIUS ANNAEUS SENECA POMONA by WILLIAM MORRIS (1834-1896) THE GRAVE OF LOVE by THOMAS LOVE PEACOCK SPANIARDS' GRAVES AT THE ISLES OF SHOALS by CELIA LEIGHTON THAXTER |