DEATH
by: Thomas Hood (1799-1845)
- T 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 sprite
- 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 graves
- In tender pilgrimage, will cease to go
- So duly and so oft--and when the grass waves
- Over the pass'd-away, there may be then
- No resurrection in the minds of men.
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POEMS BY THOMAS HOOD |
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