As I sit alone and sigh

A thought of death arises

That I might be happy for ever

As if death were all.

In our time the mind seeks death

For refuge and consolation.

In its place lies eternal peace

Though it should be, it is not.

But to love is the greatest bliss

And to have it is the end of pain

Though, at the time, the thought is a joy,

Yet it is not so.

Death is the doorway to life

But not without its perils;

And there is no bliss without pain.