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James Henry Leigh Hunt (Ли Хант)


Death


Death is a road our dearest friends have gone;
Why with such leaders, fear to say, "Lead on?"
Its gate repels, lest it too soon be tried,
But turns in balm on the immortal side.
Mothers have passed it: fathers, children; men
Whose like we look not to behold again;
Women that smiled away their loving breath;
Soft is the travelling on the road to death!
But guilt has passed it? men not fit to die?
O, hush -- for He that made us all is by!
Human we're all -- all men, all born of mothers;
All our own selves in the worn-out shape of others;
Our used, and oh, be sure, not to be ill-used brothers! 



James Henry Leigh Hunt's other poems:
  1. A Thought or Two on Reading Pomfret's
  2. The Field of Battle
  3. Robin Hood, A Child
  4. Ariadne Waking
  5. To Robert Batty, M.D., On His Giving Me A Lock Of Milton's Hair


Poems of other poets with the same name (Стихотворения других поэтов с таким же названием):

  • Thomas Hood (Томас Гуд (Худ)) Death ("It is not death, that sometime in a sigh")
  • William Yeats (Уильям Йейтс) Death ("Nor dread nor hope attend")
  • John Clare (Джон Клэр) Death ("Why should man's high aspiring mind")
  • George Herbert (Джордж Герберт (Херберт)) Death ("Death, thou wast once an uncouth hideous thing")

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