Like as a flamelet blanketed in smoke, <br />So through the anaesthetic shows my life; <br />So flashes and so fades my thought, at strife <br />With the strong stupor that I heave and choke <br />And sicken at, it is so foully sweet. <br />Faces look strange from space-and disappear. <br />Far voices, sudden loud, offend my ear - <br />And hush as sudden. Then my senses fleet: <br />All were a blank, save for this dull, new pain <br />That grinds my leg and foot; and brokenly <br />Time and the place glimpse on to me again; <br />And, unsurprised, out of uncertainty, <br />I wake-relapsing-somewhat faint and fain, <br />To an immense, complacent dreamery.<br /><br />William Ernest Henley<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/after-17/
