A Digression To Thoughts

Call death the end, and that's the bluff of man, 

Or purblind may he be, or condescend;

'Dwell forth' says he, 'to merry life ahead'

To avert the thoughts from the eyes instead. 

Why, Hypnos, O sleep Lord! Why in thy world

Let us be, to partake not, and unfurled,

The stygian be? For the eyes should see 

Better Closed, for life, to let it be. 

The common must it be, the life of the flesh

The thoughts but rare, blind shouldn't be unless

To see a wise, and wiser thought for all

Hope is so for, the wisest must not fall. 

A thought, 

Life being beauteous, beauteous remain

For all to see good and for good to stay

A thought lies in the paper, unbetrayed.