When life as opening buds is sweet, <br /> And golden hopes the fancy greet, <br /> And Youth prepares his joys to meet,-- <br /> Alas! how hard it is to die! <br /> <br /> When just is seized some valued prize, <br /> And duties press, and tender ties <br /> Forbid the soul from earth to rise,-- <br /> How awful then it is to die! <br /> <br /> When, one by one, those ties are torn, <br /> And friend from friend is snatched forlorn, <br /> And man is left alone to mourn,-- <br /> Ah then, how easy 'tis to die! <br /> <br /> When faith is firm, and conscience clear, <br /> And words of peace the spirit cheer, <br /> And visioned glories half appear,-- <br /> 'Tis joy, 'tis triumph then to die. <br /> <br /> When trembling limbs refuse their weight, <br /> And films, slow gathering, dim the sight, <br /> And clouds obscure the mental light,-- <br /> 'Tis nature's precious boon to die.<br /><br />Anna Lætitia Barbauld<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/a-thought-on-death/
