DEATH, to the dead for evermore <br />A King, a God, the last, the best of friends - <br />Whene'er this mortal journey ends <br />Death, like a host, comes smiling to the door; <br />Smiling, he greets us, on that tranquil shore <br />Where neither piping bird nor peeping dawn <br />Disturbs the eternal sleep, <br />But in the stillness far withdrawn <br />Our dreamless rest for evermore we keep. <br /> <br />For as from open windows forth we peep <br />Upon the night-time star beset <br />And with dews for ever wet; <br />So from this garish life the spirit peers; <br />And lo! as a sleeping city death outspread, <br />Where breathe the sleepers evenly; and lo! <br />After the loud wars, triumphs, trumpets, tears <br />And clamour of man's passion, Death appears, <br />And we must rise and go. <br /> <br />Soon are eyes tired with sunshine; soon the ears <br />Weary of utterance, seeing all is said; <br />Soon, racked by hopes and fears, <br />The all-pondering, all-contriving head, <br />Weary with all things, wearies of the years; <br />And our sad spirits turn toward the dead; <br />And the tired child, the body, longs for bed.<br /><br />Robert Louis Stevenson<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/death-to-the-dead-for-evermore/
