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THOUGHTS DURING SICKNESS: 3. RETZSCH'S DESIGN OF THE ANGELS OF DEATH by FELICIA DOROTHEA HEMANS

Poet Analysis

First Line: WELL MIGHT THINE AWFUL IMAGE THUS ARISE
Last Line: SO FAST AROUND MY SOUL, IT CANNOT SPRING TO THEE!
Subject(s): DEATH; SICKNESS; DEAD, THE; ILLNESS;

WELL might thine awful image thus arise
With that high calm upon thy regal brow,
And the deep, solemn sweetness in those eyes,
Unto the glorious artist! Who but thou
The fleeting forms of beauty can endow
For him with permanence? who make those gleams
Of brighter life, that colour his lone dreams,
Immortal things? Let others @3trembling@1 bow,
Angel of Death! before thee; -- not to those
Whose spirits with Eternal Truth repose,
Art thou a fearful shape! And oh! for @3me@1,
How full of welcome would thine aspect shine,
Did not the cords of strong affection twine
So fast around my soul, it @3cannot@1 spring to thee!



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