Page:Poems Angier.djvu/254

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EUTHANASIA.
We read of a far-away island, so fair,
The death-angel's shadow ne'er darkened aught there;
So its dwellers live on, bowed with age and with care.

They long to be gone—'neath life's burden they sigh;
They crave but one blessing—they ask but to die,
And they grieve that the Good One their prayer should deny.

A bright vision only that island must prove;
A region where naught but the fancy may rove,
For through no paths like those did e'er human feet move.

Yet, we're booked for a journey—the mandate reads so,
How long we may travel One only can know,
But Love points the arrow that biddeth each go.