AT the grim end, no prison for me Wherein my blanched mortality, Immured, shall lie, because it must, Till it resolve itself to dust. Nay, let a flame, of mystic might To make corruption clean and light, Prepare my body for its Fate, From loathly things inviolate. Then, standing by great waters, where The heavens stretch wide, and sun and air And ampleness inhabit, cast My ashes to the azure Vast. And I shall thank you, being blent With what I love, the element Of earth refined and caught away; Yea, I shall thank you and shall say: "The fierce purgation of the fire Has loosed my spirit, I aspire Toward God, I mount, elate and free, One with the wind and sky and sea." | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...BUT NOW by GEORGIA DOUGLAS JOHNSON THE VIKING GRAVE AT LADBY by KAREN SWENSON THE WANTS OF MAN by JOHN QUINCY ADAMS BATTLE OF THE BALTIC by THOMAS CAMPBELL IMPRESSIONS: LES SILHOUETTES by OSCAR WILDE IDEOGRAM by ALFRED GOLDSWORTHY BAILEY |