Last night, on coughing slightly with sharp pain, There came arterial blood, and with a sigh Of absolute grief I cried in bitter vein, That drop is my death-warrant: I must die. Poor meagre life is mine, meagre and poor! Rather a piece of childhood thrown away; An adumbration faint; the overture To stifled music; year that ends in May; The sweet beginning of a tale unknown; A dream unspoken; promise unfulfilled; A morning with no noon, a rose unblown, -- All its deep rich vermilion crushed and killed I' th' bud by frost: -- Thus in false fear I cried, Forgetting that to abolish death Christ died. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...ON THE LOSS OF THE ROYAL GEORGE by WILLIAM COWPER TO ONE IN BEDLAM by ERNEST CHRISTOPHER DOWSON PAN'S PIPING by ALCAEUS OF MESSENE THE WIND AND THE WHIRLWIND by WILFRID SCAWEN BLUNT ABNEGATION by KATHARINE BROWN BURT LINES FROM A NOTEBOOK - FEBRUARY 1807 (2) by SAMUEL TAYLOR COLERIDGE |