Consumption

Ay, thou art for the grave; thy glances shine
Too brightly to shine long; another Spring
Shall deck her for men's eyes---but not for thine---
Sealed in a sleep which knows no wakening.
The fields for thee have no medicinal leaf,
And the vexed ore no mineral of power;
And they who love thee wait in anxious grief
Till the slow plague shall bring the final hour.
Glide softly to thy rest then; Death should come
Gently, to one of gentle mould like thee,
As light winds wandering through groves of bloom
Detach the delicate blossom from the tree.
Close thy sweet eyes, calmly, and without pain;
And we will trust in God to see thee yet again.

by William Cullen Bryant

Comments (5)

Close thy sweet eyes, calmly, and without pain; And we will trust in God to see thee yet again. William Cullen Bryant
This is a beautifully penned poem, a wonderful sonnet, describing the horrible tragic inevitability, of a slow death by incurable consumption at the time. The poem deserves a far better recognition and ranking than it has received here.
Calmly, and without pain. With the ways of nature; as death came along. Nice work.
Beautifully penned with lovely rhyme scheme. Thanks for sharing.
My mother died during a snow blizzard in 1978. This poem just completely described that part of my life....