Treasure Island

John Keats

(31 October 1795 – 23 February 1821 / London, England)

On Death


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.

Submitted: Monday, March 29, 2010

Do you like this poem?
1 person liked.
0 person did not like.

Read this poem in other languages

This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.

I would like to translate this poem »

word flags

What do you think this poem is about?

Comments about this poem (On Death by John Keats )

Enter the verification code :

Read all 1 comments »

Top Poems

  1. Phenomenal Woman
    Maya Angelou
  2. The Road Not Taken
    Robert Frost
  3. If You Forget Me
    Pablo Neruda
  4. Still I Rise
    Maya Angelou
  5. Dreams
    Langston Hughes
  6. Annabel Lee
    Edgar Allan Poe
  7. If
    Rudyard Kipling
  8. I Know Why The Caged Bird Sings
    Maya Angelou
  9. Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening
    Robert Frost
  10. Invictus
    William Ernest Henley

New Poems

  1. Weeping Under The Rain, Tony Adah
  2. EVEN More Cosmic Than That~~~, Monk E. Biz
  3. No Place Nation, Xavier Cole
  4. Dream Another Dream, Xavier Cole
  5. CITY OF LOVE 10 WORD, Beryl Dov
  6. Polyamory, Rm.Shanmugam Chettiar.
  7. HEARTBREAK 10 WORD, Beryl Dov
  8. Multiple children, Rm.Shanmugam Chettiar.
  9. If I Had a Voice, Lee Gelis
  10. Together, Kindred velarde

Poem of the Day

poet Henry Lawson


The old year went, and the new returned, in the withering weeks of drought,
The cheque was spent that the shearer earned,
and the sheds were all cut out;
...... Read complete »

   

Member Poem

[Hata Bildir]