Death & Dying
On Death
From Posthumous and Fugitive Poems
Death & Dying
Can death be sleep, when life is but a dream,
And scenes of bliss pass as a phantom by?
The transient pleasures as a vision seem,
And yet we think the greatest pain's to die.
How strange it is that man on earth should roam,
And lead a life of woe, but not forsake
His rugged path; nor dare he view alone
His future doom which is but to awake.
Cite this poem
MLA
Keats, John. “On Death.” Poetry Codex, poetrycodex.com/poem/keats/49/.
Chicago
Keats, John. “On Death.” Poetry Codex. https://poetrycodex.com/poem/keats/49/.
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