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Thomas Hood (Томас Гуд (Худ))


Death


It is not death, that sometime in a sigh
This eloquent breath shall take its speechless flight;
That sometime these bright stars, that now reply
In sunlight to the sun, shall set in night;
That this warm conscious flesh shall perish quite,
And all life's ruddy springs forget to flow;
That thoughts shall cease, and the immortal sprite
Be lapped in alien clay and laid below;
It is not death to know this,--but to know
That pious thoughts, which visit at new graves
In tender pilgrimage, will cease to go
So duly and so oft,--and when grass waves
Over the past-away, there may be then
No resurrection in the minds of men. 



Thomas Hood's other poems:
  1. To a Child Embracing his Mother
  2. To A Sleeping Child
  3. The Forsaken
  4. Sonnet to My Wife
  5. O Lady, Leave Thy Silken Thread


Poems of other poets with the same name (Стихотворения других поэтов с таким же названием):

  • William Yeats (Уильям Йейтс) Death ("Nor dread nor hope attend")
  • John Clare (Джон Клэр) Death ("Why should man's high aspiring mind")
  • George Herbert (Джордж Герберт (Херберт)) Death ("Death, thou wast once an uncouth hideous thing")
  • James Hunt (Джеймс Хант) Death ("Death is a road our dearest friends have gone")

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