If it must be; if it must be, O God! That I die young, and make no further moans; That, underneath the unrespective sod, In unescutcheoned privacy, my bones Shall crumble soon, -- then give me strength to bear The last convulsive throe of too sweet breath! I tremble from the edge of life, to dare The dark and fatal leap, having no faith, No glorious yearning for the Apocalypse; But like a child that in the night-time cries For light, I cry; forgetting the eclipse Of knowledge and our human destinies. O peevish and uncertain soul! obey The law of life in patience till the Day. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...SONG FOR THE LONDON VOLUNTEERS by ANNA LETITIA BARBAULD EASTER by CHARLOTTE LOUISE BERTLESEN THE SUNLIT VALE by EDMUND CHARLES BLUNDEN FO'C'S'LE YARNS: 3D SERIES: PRELUDE by THOMAS EDWARD BROWN VERSES WRITTEN UNDER FERGUSSON'S PORTRAIT by ROBERT BURNS DICTATOR by KATHARINE BROWN BURT STANZAS TO AUGUSTA (2) by GEORGE GORDON BYRON TOWARDS DEMOCRACY: PART 4. AS THE GREEKS DREAMED by EDWARD CARPENTER |