 | The Poetical Works of Robert Montgomery |  |
548
ANTICIPATIONS.
To die!—this gorgeous world of life and loveForsake, and fleet beyond the bounds of thought;
To feel the death-dews creeping o'er each limb,
Our life-stream curdle, and the heart grow cold;
To be the flesh-worm's feast; to mould away
And blend our being with embracing dust;
All this, together with imagined wails
Of friends, whose tearful eyes attend our bier,—
Calls a chill horror round the name of death,
Which daunts the good, and makes the bad despair.
| The Poetical Works of Robert Montgomery | |