Robert Louis Stevenson

(1850-1894 / Edinburgh / Scotland)

Death, To The Dead For Evermore - Poem by Robert Louis Stevenson

DEATH, to the dead for evermore
A King, a God, the last, the best of friends -
Whene'er this mortal journey ends
Death, like a host, comes smiling to the door;
Smiling, he greets us, on that tranquil shore
Where neither piping bird nor peeping dawn
Disturbs the eternal sleep,
But in the stillness far withdrawn
Our dreamless rest for evermore we keep.

For as from open windows forth we peep
Upon the night-time star beset
And with dews for ever wet;
So from this garish life the spirit peers;
And lo! as a sleeping city death outspread,
Where breathe the sleepers evenly; and lo!
After the loud wars, triumphs, trumpets, tears
And clamour of man's passion, Death appears,
And we must rise and go.

Soon are eyes tired with sunshine; soon the ears
Weary of utterance, seeing all is said;
Soon, racked by hopes and fears,
The all-pondering, all-contriving head,
Weary with all things, wearies of the years;
And our sad spirits turn toward the dead;
And the tired child, the body, longs for bed.


Comments about Death, To The Dead For Evermore by Robert Louis Stevenson

  • Thomas Duncky (9/17/2013 3:53:00 AM)


    like the tired child longs for bed so does our bodies long for that sleep (Report) Reply

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Read poems about / on: death, journey, sunshine, city, passion, star, sad, child, sleep, god, night, smile, rose, hope, children, fear, friend



Poem Submitted: Tuesday, December 31, 2002



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