Chapter XIV

But not to me came death so bright,
For I had lov’d the world’s delight;
And oh to leave what only charm’d me,
To go with Death—that had disarm’d me,
And dragg’d me, loth to part, and fain
To struggle back to bonds again;
’Twas very hard—’twas very dread!
But from my couch, I rais’d my head,
And op’d mine eyes, to look once more
On what, for me, should soon be o’er,
And then I said—or thought, or seem’d
To be repeating, while I dream’d
Away my ebbing hour of breath—
To leave this all, oh this is death!