Life and Death by Christina Georgina Rossetti

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Life is not sweet. One day it will be sweet / To shut our eyes and die: / Nor feel the wild-flowers blow, nor birds dart by / With flitting butterfly, / Nor grass grow long above our heads and feet, / Nor hear the happy lark that soars sky high, / Nor sigh that spring is fleet and summer fleet, / Nor mark the waxing wheat, / Nor know who sits in our accustomed seat.

Life is not good. One day it will be good / To die, then live again; / To sleep meanwhile: so not to feel the wane / Of shrunk leaves dropping in the wood, / Nor hear the foamy lashing of the main, / Nor mark the blackened bean-fields, nor where stood / Rich ranks of golden grain, / Only dead refuse stubble clothe the plain: / Asleep from risk, asleep from pain.

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