An Episode of Euthanasia
By Joseph Longking Townsend
When Death caressed me with her lingering arms,
And with cool palms stroked oft my beaded brow,
And flashed dark eyes into my nervous sight,
I smiled and welcomed her. Was she not very kind?
Did she not ease the pain that wracked my limbs,
And bid me swoon away in misty dreams
Where all things beautiful entranced my eyes,
And tunes of unborn melodies bid me hear
What joy held in reserve for mortal ears?
Because I had no fear, her arms unclasped;
And, as a queenly-robed, immortal form,
Beautiful beyond all earthly comeliness.
She tarried but a moment to impress
My lingering vision with her loveliness,
And bade me wait till she should come again!