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Poem by Thomas Hood


Death


 Sonnet

It is not death, that sometime in a sigh
This eloquent breath shall take its speechless flight;
That sometime these bright stars, that now reply
In sunlight to the sun, shall set in night;
That this warm conscious flesh shall perish quite,
And all life's ruddy springs forget to flow;
That thoughts shall cease, and the immortal sprite
Be lapped in alien clay and laid below;
It is not death to know this,--but to know
That pious thoughts, which visit at new graves
In tender pilgrimage, will cease to go
So duly and so oft,--and when grass waves
Over the past-away, there may be then
No resurrection in the minds of men. 



Thomas Hood


Thomas Hood's other poems:
  1. To My Daughter on Her Birthday
  2. To Fancy
  3. Ballad (She's up and gone, the graceless girl)
  4. The Two Peacocks of Bedfont
  5. Sonnet for the 14th of February


Poems of the other poets with the same name:

  • John Clare Death ("Why should man's high aspiring mind")
  • James Hunt Death ("Death is a road our dearest friends have gone")
  • George Herbert Death ("Death, thou wast once an uncouth hideous thing")
  • William Yeats Death ("Nor dread nor hope attend")
  • Henry Vaughan Death ("'TIS a sad Land, that in one day")
  • Thomas MacDonagh Death ("Life is a boon - and death, as spirit and flesh are twain")
  • Madison Cawein Death ("THROUGH some strange sense of sight or touch")
  • Lucretia Davidson Death ("The destroyer cometh; his footstep is light")

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