Is it not sweet to die? for, what is death, But sighing that we ne’er may sigh again, Getting a length beyond our tedious selves; But trampling the l… - Thomas Lovell Beddoes

Hard by the lilied Nile I saw
A duskish river-dragon stretched along,
The brown habergeon of his limbs enamelled With sanguine almandines and rainy pearl:
And on his back there lay a young one sleeping
No bigger than a mouse; with eyes like beads,
And a small fragment of its speckled egg
Remaining on its harmless, pulpy snout;
A thing to laugh at, as it gaped to catch
The baulking, merry flies. In the iron jaws Of the great devil-beast, like a pale soul
Fluttering in rocky hell, lightsomely flew
A snowy troculus, with roseate beak
Tearing the hairy leeches from his throat.

If there were dreams to sell, What would you buy?
Some cost a passing bell; Some a light sigh,
That shakes from Life’s fresh crown
Only a rose-leaf down.
If there were dreams to sell,
Merry and sad to tell,
And the crier rang the bell, What would you buy?A cottage lone and still, With bowers nigh,
Shadowy, my woes to still, Until I die.
Such pearl from Life’s fresh crown
Fain would I shake me down.
Were dreams to have at will,
This would best heal my ill, This would I buy.

If thou wilt ease thine heart
Of love and all its smart, Then sleep, dear, sleep;
And not a sorrow Hang any tear on your eyelashes; Lie still and deep, Sad soul, until the sea-wave washes
The rim o’ the sun to-morrow, In eastern sky.But wilt thou cure thine heart
Of love and all its smart, Then die, dear, die;
’Tis deeper, sweeter, Than on a rose-bank to lie dreaming With folded eye; And there alone, amid the beaming
Of Love’s stars, thou’lt meet her In eastern sky.