Nathaniel Hawthorne is to blame :-). While passionately discussing his view of death with my classsmate in order to write a short seminar work for our American Literature I classes, I got kicked out....God knows why :-), maybe I shouldn't have laughed so loud.
Go to the Grave, by Nathaniel Hawthorne (1804-1864)
1 Go to the grave where friends are laid,
2 And learn how quickly mortals fade,
3 Learn how the fairest flower must droop,
4 Learn how the strongest form must stoop,
5 Learn that we are but dust and clay,
6 The short-liv’d creatures of a day,
7 Yet do not sigh- there is a clime,
8 Where they will dwell through endless time,
9 Who here on earth their Maker serve,
10 And never from his precepts swerve.
11 The grave to them is but a road,
12 That leads them to that blest abode.
No comments:
Post a Comment