Death is delightful. Death is dawn, The waking from a weary night Of fevers unto truth and light. Fame is not much, love is not much, Yet what else is there worth the touch Of lifted hands with dagger drawn? So surely life is little worth: Therefore I say, look up; therefore I say, one little star has more Bright gold than all the earth of earth. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE KIND MOON by SARA TEASDALE THE CONQUEROR'S GRAVE by WILLIAM CULLEN BRYANT THE GLOVE AND THE LIONS by JAMES HENRY LEIGH HUNT BROTHERS by JAMES WELDON JOHNSON SONG by ARTHUR WILLIAM EDGAR O'SHAUGHNESSY IN MEMORIAM A.H.H.: 67 by ALFRED TENNYSON |