Do not go gentle into that good night, Old age should burn and rave at close of day, Rage, rage against the dying of the light. Though wise men at their end know dark is right, Because their words had forked no lightning they Do not go gentle into that good night. Good men, the last wave by, crying how bright Their frail deeds might have danced in a green day, Rage, rage against the dying of the light. Wild men who caught and sang the sun in flight, And learn, too late, they grieved it on its way, Do not go gentle into that good night. Grave men, near death, who see with blinding sight Blind eyes could blaze like meteors and be gay, Rage, rage against the dying of the light. And you, my father, there on the sad height, Curse, bless, me now with your fierce tears, I pray, Do not go gentle into that good night. Rage, rage against the dying of the light.
Three British Poems for Baritone and Piano
by Roger S. Keele (b. 1954)
1. Do Not Go Gentle Into That Good Night  [sung text not yet checked]
Authorship:
- by Dylan Thomas (1914 - 1953), no title
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Available translations, adaptations or excerpts, and transliterations (if applicable):
- GER German (Deutsch) [singable] (Walter A. Aue) , "Geh' Du nicht sanft in jene Gute Nacht", copyright © 2010, (re)printed on this website with kind permission
Researcher for this page: Jeroen Scholten
2. I saw his round mouth's crimson  [sung text not yet checked]
I saw his round mouth's crimson deepen as it fell, Like a Sun, in his last deep hour; Watched the magnificent recession of farewell, Clouding, half gleam, half glower, And a last splendour burn the heavens of his cheek. And in his eyes The cold stars lighting, very old and bleak, In different skies.
Authorship:
- by Wilfred Owen (1893 - 1918), "Fragment: a farewell", from Poems, first published 1931
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Researcher for this text: Emily Ezust [Administrator]3. Titanic!  [sung text not yet checked]
I In a solitude of the sea Deep from human vanity, And the Pride of Life that planned her, stilly couches she. II Steel chambers, late the pyres Of her salamandrine fires, Cold currents thrid, and turn to rhythmic tidal lyres. III Over the mirrors meant To glass the opulent The sea-worm crawls -- grotesque, slimed, dumb, indifferent. IV Jewels in joy designed To ravish the sensuous mind Lie lightless, all their sparkles bleared and black and blind. V Dim moon-eyed fishes near Gaze at the gilded gear And query: "What does this vaingloriousness down here?". . . VI Well: while was fashioning This creature of cleaving wing, The Immanent Will that stirs and urges everything VII Prepared a sinister mate For her -- so gaily great -- A Shape of Ice, for the time [far]1 and dissociate. VIII And as the smart ship grew In stature, grace, and hue In shadowy silent distance grew the Iceberg too. IX Alien they seemed to be: No mortal eye could see The intimate welding of their later history. X Or sign that they were bent By paths coincident On being anon twin halves of one august event, XI Till the Spinner of the Years Said "Now!" And each one hears, And consummation comes, and jars two hemispheres.
Authorship:
- by Thomas Hardy (1840 - 1928), "The Convergence of the Twain", subtitle: "Lines on the loss of the Titanic"
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View original text (without footnotes)First published in Fortnightly Review, June, 1912
1 sometimes misprinted as "fat".
Researcher for this text: Emily Ezust [Administrator]