Euthanasia (1811) / Lord Byron (1788-1824) When Time, or soon or late, shall bring The dreamless sleep that lulls the dead, Oblivion! may thy languid wing Wave gently o'er my dying bed! No band of friends or heirs be there, To weep, or wish, the coming blow: No maiden, with dishevelled hair, To feel, or feign, decorous woe. But silent let me sink to earth, With no officious mourners near: I would not mar one hour of mirth, Nor startle friendship with a tear. Yet Love, if Love in such an hour Could nobly check its useless sighs, Might then exert its latest power In her who lives, and him who dies. 'Twere sweet, my Psyche! to the last Thy features still serene to see: Forgetful of its struggles past, E'en Pain itself should smile on thee. But vain the wish? for Beauty still Will shrink, as shrinks the ebbing breath; And women's tears, produced at will, Deceive in life, unman in death. Then lonely be my latest hour, Without regret, without a groan; For thousands Death hath ceas'd to lower, And pain been transient or unknown. "Ay, but to die, and go", alas! Where all have gone, and all must go! To be the nothing that I was
Euthanasia (1811) / Lord Byron (1788-1824)When Time, or soon or
late, shall bringThe dreamless sleep that lulls the dead ,Oblivion!
may thy languid wingWave gently o'er my dying bed ! No band of
friends or heirs be there ,To weep, or wish, the coming blow :No
maiden, with dishevelled hair ,To feel, or feign, decorous woe . ut
silent let me sin! to earth ,With no o"cious mourners near :# would
not mar one hour of mirth ,Nor startle friendship with a tear . $et
%ove, if %ove in such an hour&ould nobly chec! its useless
sighs ,'ight then e(ert its latest power#n her who lives, and him
who dies .' Twere sweet, my )syche! to the lastThy features still
serene to see :*orgetful of its struggles past ,+'en )ain itself
should smile on thee . ut vain the wish, for eauty stillWill
shrin!, as shrin!s the ebbing breath -.nd women's tears, produced
at will ,/eceive in life, unman in death . Then lonely be my latest
hour ,Without regret, without a groan -*or thousands /eath hath
ceas'd to lower ,.nd pain been transient or un!nown . 0 .y, but to
die, and go0, alas !Where all have gone, and all must go !To be the
nothing that # was+re born to life and living woe ! &ount o'er
the 1oys thine hours have seen ,&ount o'er thy days from
anguish free ,.nd !now, whatever thou hast been ,' Tis something
better not to be .
