Poetry Explorer- Classic Contemporary Poetry, DEATH, by ELIZA KEARY


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Classic and Contemporary Poetry

DEATH, by                     Poet's Biography
First Line: On a low bed within a narrow room
Last Line: Of triumph shall my troubled life fulfill.
Subject(s): Death; Dead, The


ON a low bed within a narrow room
She lies and she has lain through weary years.
Her pale lips, parted, smile; there are no tears
Within the languid eyes, her life's young bloom
Has faded from her, yet she does not mourn.
When Summer quits the year with all her flowers
She lets him weep, but leaves him not forlorn;
For, setting fire to all her golden stores,
She from her pyre excelling glory pours
Through Autumn's coming to its latest hours.
Is it the memory of joy, a light
From years long set, that makes those features bright.
Patient, frail sufferer, is remembrance sweet?
Oh! Memory, hide, my past has tearful eyes,
Pain is my pillow, want most near me lies;
But -- I have heard the tread of unseen feet.
In some deep night, when all the world is still,
He will come in, come in through that low door,
Fearful, and beautiful, and crowned, and pale,
Asrael, God's angel. He shall stand before
Me face to face and say, "Thou'rt mine, thou'rt mine."

My sleeping nurse will start at the new sound
Of my rejoicing; see what I have found --
Thine for one moment, Messenger Divine,
Asrael, archangel, and that sudden thrill
Of triumph shall my troubled life fulfill.







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