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Frederick
George Scott
COLLECTED
POEMS
My
Friend Death
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Will death come to me robed in black
With hollow eyes and toothless
grin?
Will he have wings upon his back
And hold the scales to weigh
my sin?
Shall I behold his face with dread
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5 |
And strive to hide me
from his sight,
When death sits down beside my bed
On my last night?
I picture
death quite otherwise
Than such a spectre full
of gloom, |
10 |
As
herald of the morning skies
To chase the darkness from
my room,
An emanation from that star
Which lingers last above
the dawn,
And sees the golden lands afar
|
15 |
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And night withdrawn.
I like
to think his voice is low
And filled with murmurs
of the sea,
Where tides for ever ebb and flow
And taste the joys of
destiny, |
20 |
If
death be such, when’er he come,
I shall lie tranquil to
the end,
Then say, with lips to others dumb,
“I go, my friend.”
[Page 17]
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