Such, such is Death: no triumph: no defeat: <br />Only an empty pail, a slate rubbed clean, <br />A merciful putting away of what has been. <br /> <br />And this we know: Death is not Life, effete, <br />Life crushed, the broken pail. We who have seen <br />So marvellous things know well the end not yet. <br /> <br />Victor and vanquished are a-one in death: <br />Coward and brave: friend, foe. Ghosts do not say, <br />"Come, what was your record when you drew breath?" <br />But a big blot has hid each yesterday <br />So poor, so manifestly incomplete. <br />And your bright Promise, withered long and sped, <br />Is touched, stirs, rises, opens and grows sweet <br />And blossoms and is you, when you are dead.<br /><br />Charles Hamilton Sorley<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/such-such-is-death/
