COME, heavy souls, oppressed with the weight Of crimes, and pangs, or want of your delight; Come, drown in Lethe's sleeply Lake, Whatever makes you ache; Drink healths from poisoned bowls, Breathe out your cares together with your souls; Cool death's a salve That all may have, There's no distinction in the grave. Lay down your loads before death's iron door; Sigh, and sigh out; groan once, and groan no more. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...DOWNFALL OF POLAND [FALL OF WARSAW, 1794] by THOMAS CAMPBELL FAIRYLAND (1) by EDGAR ALLAN POE SONNET: 107 by WILLIAM SHAKESPEARE SONNET: TO SLEEP by WILLIAM WORDSWORTH AVIENUS: TO HIS FRIENDS by RUFUS FESTUS AVIENUS |