Classic and Contemporary Poetry
TO DEATH, by ANNE FINCH Poet's Biography First Line: O king of terrors, whose unbounded sway Last Line: And take to thy cold arms, insensibly, thy prey. Alternate Author Name(s): Kingsmill, Anne; Winchilsea, Countess Of Subject(s): Death; Dead, The | ||||||||
O KING of Terrors, whose unbounded sway All that have life, must certainly obey, The King, the Priest, the Prophet, all are thine, Nor would even God (in flesh) thy stroke decline. My name is on thy roll, and sure I must Encrease thy gloomy kingdom in the dust. My soul at this no apprehension feels, But trembles at thy swords, thy racks, thy wheels; Thy scorching fevers, which distract the sense, And snatch us raving, unprepar'd from hence; At thy contagious darts, that wound the heads Of weeping friends, who wait at dying beds. Spare these, and let thy time be when it will; My business is to die, and thine to kill. Gently thy fatal sceptre on me lay, And take to thy cold arms, insensibly, thy prey. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...A FRIEND KILLED IN THE WAR by ANTHONY HECHT FOR JAMES MERRILL: AN ADIEU by ANTHONY HECHT TARANTULA: OR THE DANCE OF DEATH by ANTHONY HECHT CHAMPS D?ÇÖHONNEUR by ERNEST HEMINGWAY NOTE TO REALITY by TONY HOAGLAND |
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