Annotations DEATH, men say, is like a sea That engulfs mortality, Treacherous, dreadful, blindingly Full of storm and terror. Death is like the deep, warm sand Pleasant when we come to land, Covering up with tender hand The wave's drifted error. Life's a tortured, booming gurge Winds of passion strike and urge. And transmute to broken surge Foam-crests of ambition. Death's a couch of golden ground. Warm, soft, permeable mound, Where from even memory's sound We shall have remission. Book traversal links for Death, men say, is like a sea ‹ O wind, thou hast thy kingdom in the trees Up Ah, Eros doth not always smite ›
