Poetry Explorer- Classic Contemporary Poetry, THE DYING CHRISTIAN, by CHARLES TENNYSON TURNER


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Classic and Contemporary Poetry

THE DYING CHRISTIAN, by                     Poet's Biography
First Line: I die - my limbs with icy feeling
Last Line: And bliss awaits me then!
Subject(s): Death; Dead, The


I DIE -- my limbs with icy feeling
Bespeak that Death is near;
His frozen hand each pulse is stealing;
Yet still I do not fear!
There is a hope -- not frail as that
Which rests on human things --
The hope of an immortal state,
And with the King of kings!

And ye may gaze upon my brow,
Which is not sad, tho' pale;
These hope-illumin'd features show
But little to bewail.

Death should not chase the wonted bloom
From off the Christian's face;
Ill prelude of the bliss to come,
Prepar'd by heavenly grace.

Lament no more -- no longer weep
That I depart from men;
Brief is the intermediate sleep,
And bliss awaits me then!







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