2 min read
Слушать(AI)Death
It is not death, that sometime in a sigh This eloquent breath shall take its speechless flight;
That sometime these bright stars, that now reply In sunlight to the sun, shall set in night; That this warm conscious flesh shall perish quite,
And all life’s ruddy springs forget to flow; That thoughts shall cease, and the immortal
Be lapp’d in alien clay and laid below;
It is not death to know this—but to know That pious thoughts, which visit at new
In tender pilgrimage, will cease to go So duly and so oft—and when grass
Over the pass’d-away, there may be
No resurrection in the minds of men.
Thomas Hood
Thomas Hood (23 May 1799 – 3 May 1845) was an English poet, author and humorist, best known for poems such as "The Bridge of Sighs" and "The Son
Comments
You need to be signed in to write comments
Other author posts
The Stars Are With The Voyager
The stars are with the voyager Wherever he may sail; The moon is constant to her time; The sun will never fail; But follow, follow round the world,
To Fancy
Most delicate Ariel submissive thing, Won by the mind's high magic to its hest— Invisible embassy, or secret guest,— Weighing the light air on a lighter wing;— Whether into the midnight moon, to bring Illuminate visions to the eye of res...
The Death Bed
WE watch'd her breathing thro' the night, Her breathing soft and low, As in her breast the wave of life Kept heaving to and fro So silently we seem'd to speak,
Sonnet to My Wife
The curse of Adam, the old curse of all, Though I inherit in this feverish life Of worldly toil, vain wishes, and hard strife, And fruitless thought, in Care's eternal thrall, Yet more sweet honey than of bitter gall I taste, throug...
