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Poem by Epes Sargent To David Friedrich Strauss Thou say'st, my friend, 'twould strike thee with dismay To be assured that life would not end here; Since utter death is less a thing to fear In thy esteem than life in clearer day: For life, continuous life, thou wouldst not pray; And even reunion with the loved and near Is not to thee a prospect that could cheer, Or shed a glory on thy earthward way:--- O power of thought perverse and morbid mood, Conspiring thus to numb and blind the heart! The universe gives back what we impart,--- As we elect, gives poison or pure food: Mock---silence---the soul's whisper,---and Despair Becomes to man than Hope itself more fair!Written to David Friedrich Strauss, after reading his last work The Old Faith and the New. Epes Sargent Epes Sargent's other poems: 1213 Views |
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