[BNP/E3, 49A1 – 49]

30/7/07.

The more I think on Death the more I feel

I cannot match its deepness with a feeling

That nothing adequate can thoughts reveal[1]

Even to what it shows with concealing.

Sometimes my life in living will be steeling

My heart and oft the craziest terrors reel

When thou heard through me, as my soul’s blood congealing

Full on death’s face my look has dead to steal.

|Oft am I apathetic before Death

Yet though all these my mind ignores it ever

Sudden I am looked in a surface-faith[2]

But oftest tortures without show[3] nor tear

Like who sees the waves of a swift river

And asks what passing means with a strange fear.

 
[1] can thoughts reveal /my thought can reveal\
[2] surface/superficial\-faith
[3] show /sigh\