Explore "The Flowers of Evil" by Charles Pierre Baudelaire on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
It is Death that consoles -- yea, and causes our lives; / 'Tis the goal of this Life -- and of Hope the sole ray, / Which like a strong potion enlivens and gives / Us the strength to plod on to the end of the day.
And all through the tempest, the frost and the snows, / 'Tis the shimmering light on our black sky-line; / 'Tis the famous inn which the guide-book shows, / Whereat one can eat, and sleep, and recline;