Explore "To Death" by Percy Bysshe Shelley on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
Death! where is thy victory? / To triumph whilst I die, / To triumph whilst thine ebon wing / Enfolds my shuddering soul? / O Death! where is thy sting? / Not when the tides of murder roll, / When nations groan, that kings may bask in bliss, / Death! canst thou boast a victory such as this- / When in his hour of pomp and power / His blow the mightiest murderer gave, / Mid Nature's cries the sacrifice / Of millions to glut the grave; / When sunk the Tyrant Desolation's slave; / Or Freedom's life-blood streamed upon thy shrine; / Stern Tyrant, couldst thou boast a victory such as mine?
To know in dissolution's void / That mortals' baubles sunk decay; / That everything, but Love, destroyed / Must perish with its kindred clay,- / Perish Ambition's crown, / Perish her sceptred sway: / From Death's pale front fades Pride's fastidious frown. / In Death's damp vault the lurid fires decay, / That Envy lights at heaven-born Virtue's beam- / That all the cares subside, / Which lurk beneath the tide / Of life's unquiet stream; - / Yes! this is victory! / And on yon rock, whose dark form glooms the sky, / To stretch these pale limbs, when the soul is fled; / To baffle the lean passions of their prey, / To sleep within the palace of the dead! / Oh! not the King, around whose dazzling throne / His countless courtiers mock the words they say, / Triumphs amid the bud of glory blown, / As I in this cold bed, and faint expiring groan!