The Death Of The Poor
It is death that consoles and allows us to live. Alas! that life's end should be all of our hope; It goes to our heads like a powerful drink, And gives us the heart to walk into the dark; Through storm and through snow, through the frost at our feet, It's the pulsating beacon at limit of sight, The illustrious inn* that's described in the book, Where we'll sit ourselves down, and will eat and will sleep; It's an Angel who holds in his magical grip Our peace, and the gift of magnificent dreams, And who makes up the bed of the poor and the bare; It's the glory of gods, it's the mystical loft, It's the purse of the poor and their true native land, It's the porch looking out on mysterious skies!
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About this line
"It is death that consoles and allows us to live...."
"The Death Of The Poor" is a quintessential example of Charles Baudelaire's signature style... ### Why We Love This Line At Linespedia, we believe that poetry is the ultimate sanctuary for the soul...