If I must die, <br />The earth is inarticulate to sing <br />The dirge I crave: <br />The sorrow of the murmur-laden wave, <br />The sea-born wind complaining ’neath the sky, <br />And round my head the waters’ silver ring. <br /> <br />If I must live, <br />And feel the ashes of oblivion <br />About my soul, <br />Let life be fearful, let me feel the whole, <br />Despair, and face the sunrise—if I grieve <br />Let it but be the tarrying of the sun.<br /><br />George Cabot Lodge<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/youth-47/
