Dylan Thomas
DO NOT GO GENTLE INTO THAT GOOD NIGHT Do not go gentle into that good night Old age should burn and rave at close of day; Rage,rage against the dying of the light. Though wise men at their end know dark is right, Because their words had forked no lightning they, Do not go gentle into that good night. Good men,the last wave by,crying how bright Their frail deeds might have danced in a green bay Rage,rage against the dying of the light. Wild men who caught and danced the sun in flight, And learn,too late,they grieved it on its way, Do not go gentle into that good night. Grave men,near death,who see with blinding sight Blind eyes could blaze like meteors and be gay Rage,rage against the dying of the light. And you,my father,there on the sad height, Curse,bless,me now with your fierce tears, i pray. Do not go gentle into that good night, Rage,rage against the dying of the light.
Love in the Asylum A stranger has come To share my room in the house not right in the head, A girl mad as birds Bolting the night of the door with her arm her plume. Strait in the mazed bed She deludes the heaven-proof house with entering clouds Yet she deludes with walking the nightmarish room, At large as the dead, Or rides the imagined oceans of the male wards. She has come possessed Who admits the delusive light through the bouncing wall, Possessed by the skies She sleeps in the narrow trough yet she walks the dust Yet raves at her will On the madhouse boards worn thin by my walking tears. And taken by light in her arms at long and dear last I may without fail Suffer the first vision that set fire to the stars.