I. CAN death be sleep, when life is but a dream, And scenes of bliss pass as a phantom by? The transient pleasures as a vision seem, And yet we think the greatest pain's to die. II. How strange it is that man on earth should roam, And lead a life of woe, but not forsake His rugged path; nor dare he view alone His future doom which is but to awake. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...PENT by GEORGIA DOUGLAS JOHNSON ON THE EXPECTED GENERAL RISING OF THE FRENCH NATION IN 1792 by ANNA LETITIA BARBAULD TO THE UNITED STATES OF AMERICA by ROBERT SEYMOUR BRIDGES THE TREASURES OF THE DEEP by FELICIA DOROTHEA HEMANS THE ROAD TO FRANCE by DANIEL MACINTYRE HENDERSON A SHROPSHIRE LAD: 8 by ALFRED EDWARD HOUSMAN THE COURTSHIP OF THE YONGHY-BONGHY-BO by EDWARD LEAR |