The Garden Of Proserpine
by Algernon Charles Swinburne
From to much love of living,
from hope and fear set free.
We thank with brief thanksgiving
Whatever gods may be.
That no life lives forever
That dead men rise up never
That even the weariest river
Winds somewhere safe to sea.
Then star nor sun shall waken
Nor any chance of light
Nor sound or water shaken
Nor any sound or sight.
Nor wintry leaves nor vernal
Nor days nor things diurnal
Only the sleep eternal
In an eternal light.
by Algernon Charles Swinburne