ON some triumphant morning when the sky Is like an oriflame and the wind's breath Like Victory—@3then@1 is the time to die:— Oh! when I'm mad with joy come to me, Death! Not when the heart beats mournfully beneath A drizzle of grey moments, drenched and tame;— Quench not, I pray, the half-extinguished flame, Break not the sword that rusts within the sheath! This rapture's mine. I'll hold it as a glass Catches, close-burning to a point, the sun:— Let cowards make happiness their daily bread! I'll fade into delight as at High Mass Music and incense mingle and not one —O! Life!—shall dare to think of me as dead. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...SONG: SO OFTEN, SO LONG I HAVE THOUGHT by HAYDEN CARRUTH CLEAR AND COLDER; BOSTON COMMON by ROBERT FROST MORNING, NOON AND NIGHT by JAMES WELDON JOHNSON FLORENCE NIGHTINGALE by EMMA LAZARUS BOYHOOD FRIENDS by EDGAR LEE MASTERS CANTICLE OF THE RACE by EDGAR LEE MASTERS |