The Dying Christian to His Soul
Vital spark of heav’nly flame!
Quit, O quit this mortal frame:
Trembling, hoping, ling’ring, flying,
O the pain, the bliss of dying!
Cease, fond Nature, cease thy strife,
And let me languish into life.
Hark! they whisper; angels say,
Sister Spirit, come away!
What is this absorbs me quite?
Steals my senses, shuts my sight,
Drowns my spirits, draws my breath?
Tell me, my soul, can this be death?
The world recedes; it disappears!
Heav’n opens on my eyes! my ears
With sounds seraphic ring!
Lend, lend your wings! I mount! I fly!
O Grave! where is thy victory?
O Death! where is thy sting?
Alexander Pope's Other Poems
Read this poem in other languages
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
Comments about this poem (The Dying Christian to His Soul by Alexander Pope )
Poem of the Day
- 04 Tongues Made Of Glass, Shaun Shane
- Do Not Go Gentle Into That Good Night, Dylan Thomas
- Still I Rise, Maya Angelou
- The Road Not Taken, Robert Frost
- Fire and Ice, Robert Frost
- Dreams, Langston Hughes
- America the Beautiful, Katharine Lee Bates
- Annabel Lee, Edgar Allan Poe
- The Raven, Edgar Allan Poe
- As I Grew Older, Langston Hughes
(12 July 1904 – 23 September 1973)
(March 26, 1874 – January 29, 1963)
(1 February 1902 – 22 May 1967)
Edgar Allan Poe
(19 January 1809 - 7 October 1849)
(10 December 1830 – 15 May 1886)
(4 April 1928 - 28 May 2014)
(27 October 1914 – 9 November 1953)
- Heather Burns
(August 19, 1902 – May 19, 1971)