Classic and Contemporary Poetry
SONATA TRAGICA, by MARGARET TOD RITTER
First Line: There is one death, one only, one supreme
Last Line: And cry for thee in vain; this, this is death.
Subject(s): Death; Dead, The
There is one death, one only, one supreme.
To lie in stately quiet at the rail
Of some tall altar, ministered by pale,
Grey shadows, is not death. To dream
The Spring into the veins, to wear a light,
Immaculate shroud of frost: death is not these.
Those who have heard their own deep litanies
Sung forth, have nothing to regret. No bright,
Sharp pain can follow them, no hope unsaid
Can fill their eyes with fever; they have won
Past any need of stars and moon and sun.
These are not dead who know not they are dead
To cry for thee with every listening breath
And cry for thee in vain; this, this is death.
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