DEATH.
[Published by Mrs. Shelley, "Posthumous Poems", 1824.]
1.
Death is here and death is there,
Death is busy everywhere,
All around, within, beneath,
Above is death—and we are death.
2.
Death has set his mark and seal _5
On all we are and all we feel,
On all we know and all we fear,
…
3.
First our pleasures die—and then
Our hopes, and then our fears—and when
These are dead, the debt is due, _10
Dust claims dust—and we die too.
4.
All things that we love and cherish,
Like ourselves must fade and perish;
Such is our rude mortal lot—
Love itself would, did they not. _15
***