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Normale Version: Death
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Death

In Life's dim mists of morning thou dost seem
To Childhood's eyes a giant vague and vast,
A shade across the dewy meadow cast
A blot upon the level-darting beam.
Day comes apace, and like a fearful dream
Thou shrinkest; and Youth smiles, deeming thee past;
And Manhood recks not of thee; till at last
Thou comest again, a speck borne down the stream.
Larger thou growest, and we see thee now,
No foe, but one whose silent plying wing
Shall bear us from the swiftly fading shore;
Thou comest; our head upon our breast we bow;
And in our ears remembered voices ring;
Thy arms enfold us; and we know no more.