NOT WAVING BUT DROWNING

Nobody heard him, the dead man,

But still he lay moaning:

I was much further out than you thought

And not waving but drowning.
Poor chap, he always loved larking

And now he's dead

It must have been too cold for him his heart gave way,

They said.
Oh, no no no, it was too cold always(Still the dead one lay moaning)

I was much too far out all my life

And not waving but drowning.

I met a traveller from an antique land

I met a traveller from an antique landWho said:

Two vast and and trunkless legs of stone

Stand in the desert. Near them on the sand,

Half sunk, a shatter'd visage lies, whose frown

And wrinkled lip and sneer of cold command

Tell that its sculptor well those passions read

Which yet survive, stamp'd on these lifeless things,

The hand that mock'd them and the heart that fed;

And on the pedestal these words appear:

'My name is Ozymandias, king of kings:

Look on my works, ye Mighty, and despair!

'Nothing beside remains. Round the decay

Of that colossal wreck, boundless and bare,

The lone and level sands stretch far away.

Shall I compare thee to a summer's day?

Shall I compare thee to a summer's day?

Thou art more lovely and more temperate:

Rough winds do shake the darling buds of May,

And summer's lease hath all too short a date:

Sometime too hot the eye of heaven shines,

And often is his gold complexion dimm'd,

And every fair from fair sometime declines,

By chance or natures changing course untrimm'd:

But thy eternal summer shall not fade,

Nor lose possession of that fair thou owest,

Nor shall death brag thou wandrest in his shade,

When in eternal lines to time thou growest,

So long as men can breathe or eyes can see

So long lives this, and this gives life to thee.

Let me die a young man's death

Let me die a young man's death
not a clean and inbetween
the sheets holywater death
not a famous-last-words
peaceful out of breath death

When I'm 73and in constant good tumour
may I be mown down at dawnby a bright red sports car
on my way homefrom an allnight party

Or when I'm 91with silver hair
and sitting in a barber's chairmay rival gangsters
with hamfisted tommy
gunsburst in and give me a short back and insides

Or when I'm 104
and banned from the Cavern
may my mistress
catching me in bed with her daughter
and fearing for her soncut me up into little pieces
and throw away every piece but one

Let me die a young man's death
not a free from sin tiptoe in
candle wax and waning death
not a curtains drawn by angels borne
'what a nice way to go' death

I must go down to the seas again, to the lonely sea and the sky,

I must go down to the seas again, to the lonely sea and the sky,

And all I ask is a tall ship and a star to steer her by,

And the wheel's kick and the wind's song and the white sail's shaking,

And a grey mist on the sea's face and a grey dawn breaking.
I must go down to the seas again, for the call of the running tide

Is a wild call and a clear call that may not be denied;

And all I ask is a windy day with the white clouds flying,

And the flung spray and the blown spume, and the sea-gulls crying.
I must go down to the seas again, to the vagrant gypsy life,

To the gull's way and the whale's way where the wind's like a whetted knife;

And all I ask is a merry yarn from a laughing fellow-rover,

And quiet sleep and a sweet dream when the long trick's over.

Quinquireme of Nineveh from distant Ophir

Quinquireme of Nineveh from distant Ophir

Rowing home to haven in sunny Palestine,

With a cargo of ivory,And apes and peacocks,

Sandalwood, cedarwood, and sweet white wine.
Stately Spanish galleon coming from the Isthmus,

Dipping through the Tropics by the palm-green shores,

With a cargo of diamonds,

Emeralds, amethysts,

Topazes, and cinnemon and gold moidores.
Dirty British coaster with a salt-caked smoke stack

Butting through the Channel in the mad

March days,With a cargo of Tyne coal,

Road-rail, pig-lead,Firewood, iron-ware, and cheap tin trays.

Yours and yours and yours

The life that I have

Is all that

I have

And the life that I have

Is yours.

The love that I have

Of the life that I have

Is yours and yours and yours.

A sleep I shall have

A rest I shall have

Yet death will be but a pause.

For the peace of my years

In the long green grass

Will be yours and yours and yours