Methinks it were no pain to die
On such an eve, when such a sky
O'er-canopies the west; To gaze my fill on yon calm deep,
And, like an infant, fall asleep
On Earth, my mother's breast.
There's peace and welcome in yon sea
Of endless blue tranquillity:
These clouds are living things; I trace their veins of liquid gold,
I see them solemnly unfold
Their soft and fleecy wings.
These be the angels that convey
Us weary children of a day—
Life's tedious nothing o'er— Where neither passions come, nor woes,
To vex the genius of repose
On Death's majestic shore.
No darkness there divides the sway
With startling dawn and dazzling day;
But gloriously serene Are the interminable plains:
One fixed, eternal sunset reigns
O'er the wide silent scene.
I cannot doff all human fear;
I know thy greeting is severe
To this poor shell of clay: Yet come, O Death! thy freezing kiss
Emancipates! thy rest is bliss!
I would I were away!
From the German of GLUCK.
"And so saying, he fell asleep."
MARTYRDOM OF SAINT STEPHEN.