Go Gently


Go gentle, gentle, into that good night

Old age brings acceptance of this last fate

Fly, fly to the beckoning, golden light


All seasons will end by pre-ordained right

The wise men know that when the hour is late

Their soul will take leave for eternal light


Good men do not fear the long, deep dark night.

Do not rage, sadly berating your fate,

Go gentle and rest, return to the light


Wild men who caught and sang the sun in flight,

Will sing in their dreams with no wish to wait

They will fly swiftly, to shining, bright light


Grave men will ponder the beauty of night

They will pray tenderly, knowing their fate,

Remembering all that was loving, bright


And you my father,  in that blessed night

Look upon me, with no sadness, and wait

I will not rage at the death of the light

I will go gentle into that good night



(sorry Mr Thomas – you know this means no disrespect – you are my favourite poet after Shakespeare – and I will pray for you often)


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