The all-embracing Mother wraps herself about me, The all-enduring Dream enfolds my head, Toiling and seeking they go on without me, Not dreaming it is lovely to be dead! I, that once knew the lure of airy purple Whose soul leaped up to meet the dawn of spring, Who strove in sweat and tears to learn life's purpose, Am come to nothing -- nothing do I bring. Now would the sweetest singing be a burden, The melody of harps would be a dread, Even the voice of @3you@1 goes by unheeded, O Love, it is so lovely to be dead! | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE COLD NIGHT by WILLIAM CARLOS WILLIAMS MOTHER AND POET; TURIN, AFTER THE NEWS FROM GAETA, 1861 by ELIZABETH BARRETT BROWNING SONNET TO GUIDO CAVALCANTI by DANTE ALIGHIERI SONNET: TO HOMER by JOHN KEATS |