| |
| I HATE thee, Death! | |
| Not that I fear thee,—more than mortal sprite | |
| Fears the dark entrance, whence no man returns; | |
| For who would not resign his scanty breath, | |
| Unreal joy, and troublesome delight, | 5 |
| To marble coffer or sepulchral urn’s | |
| Inviolate keeping? | |
| To quench the smouldering lamp, that feebly burns | |
| Within this chamber, to procure sweet sleeping, | |
| Is not a madman’s act. And yet I hate thee, | 10 |
| Swift breaker of life’s poor illusion, | |
| Stern ender of love’s fond confusion, | |
| And with rebellion in my heart await thee. | |
| |
| Like mariners we sail, of fate unwist, | |
| With orders seal’d and only to be read | 15 |
| When home has faded in the morning mist | |
| And simple faith and innocence are fled! | |
| |
| Oft we neglect them, being much dismay’d | |
| By phantoms and weird wonders | |
| That haunt the deep, | 20 |
| By voices, winds, and thunders, | |
| Old mariners that cannot pray nor weep, | |
| And faces of drown’d souls that cannot sleep! | |
| Or else our crew is mutinous, array’d | |
| Against us, and the mandate is delay’d. | 25 |
| |
| But when the forces that rebell’d | |
| Are satisfied or quell’d; | |
| When sails are trimm’d to catch the merry wind, | |
| And billows dance before and foam behind; | |
| Free, free at last from tumult and distraction | 30 |
| Of pleasure beckon’d and of pain repell’d,— | |
| Free from ourselves and disciplined for action,— | |
| We break the seal of destiny, to find | |
| The bourne or venture for our cruise design’d, | |
| Then, at that very moment, hark! a cry | 35 |
| On deck; and then a silence, as of breath | |
| Held. In the offing, low against the sky, | |
| Hoves thy black flag!… Therefore I hate thee, Death! | |
| |
