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Adelaide Crapsey - John Keats
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Meet thou the event 
And terrible happening of 
Thine end: for thou are come 
Upon the remote, cold place 
Of ultimate dissolution and 
With dumb, wide look 
Thou, impotent, dost feel 
Impotence creeping on 
Thy potent soul. Yea, now, caught in 
The aghast and voiceless pain 
Of Death, thyself doth watch 
Thyself becoming naught. 


Peace. . Peace. . for at 
The last is comfort. Lo, now 
Thou hast no pain. Lo, now 
The waited presence is 
Within the room; the voice 
Speaks final-gentle: "Child, 
Even thy careful nurse, 
I lift thee in my arms 
For greater ease and while 
Thy heart still beats, place my 
Cool fingers of oblivion on 
Thine eyes and close them for 

Eternity. Thou shalt 
Pass sleeping, nor know 
When sleeping ceases. Yet still 
A little while thy breathing lasts, 
Gradual is fainter: I 
must listen close — the end." 


Rest. And you others..All. 
Grave-fellows in 
Green place. Here grows 
Memorial every spring`s 
Fresh grass and here 
Your marking monument 
Was built for you long, long 
Ago when Caius Cestius died.
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