 | Interludes and Undertones, or, Music at Twilight |  |
19
XVI. EUTHANASIA.
Poor and mean are our thoughts of Death,The world's a wheel in a rut;
And men still think as their fathers thought,
With scarcely an “if” or a “but.”
To me, kind Death seems a lady fair,
A teeming mother, well wed,
Whose children inherit another world—
The new-born, beautiful dead.
Born with a glory unperceived
By us on the gloomy shore,
Children that sport in their Father's light,
And know their Mother no more!
| Interludes and Undertones, or, Music at Twilight | |