See the calm exit of the aged Saint, Without a murmur, and without complaint, Whil'st round him gathered his dear children stand And some one holds his withered pallid hand. He bids them trust in God, nor mourn nor weep; He breathes Religion, and then falls asleep. Then on angelic wings he flies to God, Rejoiced to leave this earthly mortal clod. His head is covered with a crown of gold. A golden harp his hands immortal hold. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE HOMERIC HEXAMETER [DESCRIBED AND EXEMPLIFIED] by SAMUEL TAYLOR COLERIDGE TO THE THAWING WIND by ROBERT FROST TO A CYCLAMEN by WALTER SAVAGE LANDOR VENICE; SONNET by HENRY WADSWORTH LONGFELLOW AN EPIGRAM ON SCOLDING by JONATHAN SWIFT TO MYRTILLA OF NEW YORK by FRANKLIN PIERCE ADAMS |