Page:Poems - Tennyson (1843) - Volume 1 of 2.djvu/140

 O death, death, death, thou ever-floating cloud. There are enough unhappy on this earth, Pass by the happy souls, that love to live: I pray thee, pass before my light of life, And shadow all my soul, that I may die. Thou weighest heavy on the heart within, Weigh heavy on my eyelids: let me die.

"O mother, hear me yet before I die. I will not die alone, for fiery thoughts Do shape themselves within me, more and more, Whereof I catch the issue, as I hear Dead sounds at night come from the inmost hills, Like footsteps upon wool. I dimly see My far-off doubtful purpose, as a mother Conjectures of the features of her child Ere it is born: her child!—a shudder comes Across me: never child be born of me, Unblest, to vex me with his father's eyes!

"O mother, hear me yet before I die. Hear me, O earth. I will not die alone,