Page:Oxford Book of English Verse 1250-1900.djvu/713

 Fear ye not the waves that roll? No: in charmèd bowl we swim. What the charm that floats the bowl? Water may not pass the brim. The bowl goes trim. The moon doth shine. And our ballast is old wine.— And your ballast is old wine.

CAROLINE SOUTHEY

1787-1854

596. To Death

Come not in terrors clad, to claim An unresisting prey: Come like an evening shadow, Death! So stealthily, so silently! And shut mine eyes, and steal my breath; Then willingly, O willingly, With thee I'll go away!

What need to clutch with iron grasp What gentlest touch may take? What need with aspect dark to scare, So awfully, so terribly, The weary soul would hardly care, Call'd quietly, call'd tenderly, From thy dread power to break?

'Tis not as when thou markest out The young, the blest, the gay, The loved, the loving—they who dream So happily, so hopefully; Then harsh thy kindest call may seem, And shrinkingly, reluctantly, The summon'd may obey.