Thoughts Of A Dying Man Poem by Francis Duggan

I'd love once more to hear the throstle sing
But I know that I will not be around
For when the flowers will bloom forth in the Spring
My bones will be at rest beneath the ground.

But I too had my happy hour and day
When I was in my youth and sorrow free
When sickness did not have me as it's prey
And thoughts of death never once troubled me.

All about the agonizing cry
Of dying people fill this dreary room
People awaiting painfully as I
The chilling prospect of an earthy tomb.

They put me in this moan filled room to die
Last week I overheard the doctor saying to a nurse
The time has come to move the poor old boy
Into the dying ward he's getting worse.

But that's the way that life is meant to be
What is born must also have an end
Even today's child happy and healthy
Has sickness and death waiting round the bend.