MY God, how many times ere I be dead Must I the bitterness of dying know? How often like a corpse upon my bed Compose me and surrender me and so Thro' hateful hours and ill-remembered Between the twilight and the twilight go By visions bodiless obscurely led Thro' many a wild enormity of woe? And yet I know not but that this is worst When with that light, the feeble and the first, I start and gaze into the world again, And gazing find it as of old accurst And grey and blinded with the stormy burst And blank appalling solitude of rain. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...ENGLAND'S DEAD by FELICIA DOROTHEA HEMANS GATHERING SONG OF DONALD [OR, DONUI DHU] THE BLACK by WALTER SCOTT SENEX TO MATT. PRIOR by JAMES KENNETH STEPHEN THE QUEEN FORGETS by GEORGE STERLING FITZ-GREENE HALLECK, AT THE UNVEILING OF HIS STATUE by JOHN GREENLEAF WHITTIER SONG OF THE SERPENT-CHARMERS by EDWIN ARNOLD |