A Letter To Dylan Thomas
Forbid them not the gentle of good night.
Old age welcomes the rest at end of day.
Sweet to tired eyes the dying of the light.
Wise men who know the dark of light is right
Have shared their knowledge with wild youth and they
Go very gentle into that good night.
Good men, while young, enjoyed the daylight bright
And have put follies of their youths away.
Sweet to tired eyes the dying of the light.
Strong men who worked while sun was in its flight
Have earned the right to wave it on its way.
They now go gentle into that good night.
Brave men, near death, who see with blinding sight,
Must shield their eyes from sunlight's brightest ray.
Sweet to tired eyes the dying of the light.
And you my father, there in that bright light
Bless me, your child, with welcome smile I pray.
I now go gentle into that dark night.
Sweet to tired eyes, the dying of the light.
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