ME, me, and none but me, dart home, O gentle death, And quickly, for I draw too long this idle breath: O how I long till I may fly to Heaven above, Unto my faithful and beloved turtle dove. Like to the silver swan, before my death I sing: And yet alive, my fatal knell I help to ring. Still I desire from earth and earthly joys to fly, He never happy lived that cannot love to die. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE CHILD IN THE GARDEN by HENRY VAN DYKE ON LYDIA DISTRACTED; A SONNET by PHILIP AYRES SLOW TO COME, QUICK A-GONE by WILLIAM BARNES ADDRESS TO SUBSCRIBERS .. FUND FOR CLOTHING CHILDREN CHARITY SCHOOL by BERNARD BARTON MISTRESS FATE by WILLIAM ROSE BENET STRANGER by HARRIET GRAY BLACKWELL THE ESCAPE by EDMUND CHARLES BLUNDEN AN ELEGY ON THE UNTIMELY DEATH OF THOMAS AYLEWORTH, SLAIN AT CROYDON by WILLIAM BROWNE (1591-1643) |