Classic and Contemporary Poetry
DEATH, by CHARLES V. H. ROBERTS
First Line: Death! Is it thou whom bravest souls do fear
Last Line: Reviving, creeping to calamity.
Subject(s): Creation; Death; Holidays; Memorial Day; Rest; Tragedy; Dead, The; Declaration Day
Death! is it thou whom bravest souls do fear
With direst awe? Art thou that storm on Time's
Foam-fretted shore that launches spirits to
Eternity? Art thou that tempest in
The sea of Life blowing forthwith a wind
In thunderbolts that shakes again Creation back
To its original atoms? Deathto cease
To be; life's wits end in consternation
O'er not being what we've been before;
Where all that's past is lost and being past
Was lost the instant we did live. Death
A moment's work disguised through years of fear
The folly of it! losing blood by drops
From passioning veins but lowlier clay withal.
This fearing death disquiets all the rests
Of life in these our fleshly prisons,
Reviving, creeping to calamity.
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