Classic Poem

One other bitter drop to drink,
—And then—no more!
One little pause upon the brink,
—And then—go o'er!
One sigh—and then the lib'rant morn
—Of perfect day,
When my free spirit, newly born,
—Will soar away!

One pang—and I shall rend the thrall
—Where grief abides,
And generous Death will show me all
—That now he hides;
And, lucid in that second birth,
—I shall discern
What all the sages of the earth
—Have died to learn.

One motion—and the stream is crossed,
—So dark, so deep!
And I shall triumph, or be lost
—In endless sleep.
Then, onward! Whatsoe'er my fate,
—I shall not care!
Nor Sin nor Sorrow, Love nor Hate
—Can touch me there.