On Death Poem by John Keats

On Death

Rating: 2.8


1.
Can death be sleep, when life is but a dream,
And scenes of bliss pass as a phantom by?
The transient pleasures as a vision seem,
And yet we think the greatest pain's to die.

2.
How strange it is that man on earth should roam,
And lead a life of woe, but not forsake
His rugged path; nor dare he view alone
His future doom which is but to awake.

COMMENTS OF THE POEM
Victo Kareem 03 April 2020

Each And Every One Have to Sleep Forever But" A Miles To Go B4 I Sleep"

0 0 Reply
Jayita Basak 25 June 2019

Fantabulous, fetching

0 0 Reply
* Sunprincess * 29 November 2013

pretty deep thoughts..i like it...

9 0 Reply
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John Keats

John Keats

London, England
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