Death - A poem by Jasper C. Wasson

Death.

There is something that lingers
And around life doth twine;
It comes like a monster,
And clasps like a vine;
Though now we but think of it
A far distant span,
Yet its broadening piers
Will swallow up man.

There is something that hovers
And o'er life doth grope,
And gapes like a monster,
And swallows earth's hope;
Though now we but look at it
Still far away,
Yet slowly, though surely
'Tis nearing each day.

There is something that crouches,
And o'er life doth bend,
'Tis darkening the heavens
And bids me ascend.
Ah! now I can see,
For my fast fleeting breath,
Sighs, though it welcomes thee^__
Death, Oh! Death!

^__Jasper C. Wasson.

Poets and Poetry of Kansas
Edited by Thomas W. Herringshaw
(Chicago: American Publishers' Association. 1894)
Page 329