Death Bed Poetry: Jane Austen
"I want nothing but death." - Jane Austen
Fatigue, weakness, and bilious attacks
I am dying day by day, night by night.
Each of my bones, like a worn-out twig, cracks.
Each split moment is an eternal fight.
My eyes yearn to see my bright day of death.
When my worries will be buried with me
Gentle breezes of heaven fill my breath.
Angels and seraphs all around I see.
Poesy has gone dry like desert streams.
Nocturnal beings pervade my blank mind.
I miss those buoyant aureate sunbeams.
Within my withering self I'm confined.
Let this life here on earth end like a feast.
Let me, from all my bondages, be released!
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