Do Not Go Gentle Into That Good Night

Do Not Go Gentle Into That Good Night
14 Feb
2017

Do not go gentle into that good night,

Old age should burn and rave at close of day;

Rage, rage against the dying of the light.

 

Though wise men at their end know dark is right,

Because their words had forked no lightening they

Do not go gentle into that good night.

 

Good men, the last wave by, crying how bright

Their frail deeds might have danced in a green bay,

Rage, rage against the dying of the light.

 

Wild men who caught and sang the sun in flight,

And learn, too late, they grieved it on its way,

Do not go gentle into that good night.

 

Grave men, near death, who see with blinding sight

Blind eyes could blaze like meteors and be gay,

Rage, rage against the dying of the light.

 

And you, my father, there on the sad height,

Curse, bless, me now with your fierce tears, I pray.

Do not go gentle into that good night.

Rage, rage against the dying of the light.

 

 

Last modified on Friday, 24 February 2017 17:18
  • My Precious Son
    Unendingly I mourn my precious son Too early yet this earthly home he left, Perfidious sleep confounded nature's order To leave his loves perpetually bereft. Those golden dreams and aspirations, The seed of yesterday a withered bloom, Those baubles which are cause to celebrate In death now mock us gently from his tomb. How treacherous death does steal on youth's exuberance, To wreak such havoc from the ecstasy of life, Where once was only joy and future promise Tormented hearts endure eternal strife.