Barry Cornwall

(21 November 1787 – 5 October 1874 / Leeds, England)

The Watch - Poem by Barry Cornwall

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I wakened on my hot, hard bed;
Upon the pillow lay my head;
Beneath the pillow I could hear
My little watch was ticking clear.
I thought the throbbing of it went
Like my continual discontent;
I thought it said in every tick:
I am so sick, so sick, so sick:
O death, come quick, come quick, come quick,
Come quick, come quick, come quick, come quick...


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Read poems about / on: sick, death



Poem Submitted: Thursday, January 1, 2004



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