Hail Deth, that from alle Natur’s birth
Hast kept each living thing thy thrall!
Teech me to love thy quiet call,
Among the blest,
To be at peace with every thing on earth.
Come soft, without impediment;
Let mee slide sleeping to thy armes,
Discover alle thy soothing charmes;
My every ill,
Leave mee uninterrupted sediment.
This is one of my very earliest poems, with the form, theme and erratic spelling all obviously influenced by studying the Metaphysical Poets in school. I’ve always been fascinated by death–at least since the time I gave up Christianity, thanks to my excellent Church of England schooling. The poem was written tongue-in-cheek, of course: I’m in no hurry to die.
‘Hail Deth’ has just been published in the Shot Glass Journal which, in accordance with Shakespeare’s “brevity is the soul of wit”, publishes both formal and free verse so long as a poem doesn’t exceed 16 lines. It also divides contributions into American and International groups and lists them separately, which is interesting if not necessarily useful in any functional sense.
Photo: “NS-01023 – Death Head” by archer10 (Dennis) is licensed under CC BY-SA 2.0