Mortality

OW many times have I lain down at night,And longed to fall into that gulf of sleepWhose dreamless deepIs haunted by no memory ofThe weary world above;And thought myself most miserable that IMust impotently lieSo long upon the brinkWithout the power to sinkInto that nothingness, and neither feel nor think!How many times, when day brought back the lightAfter the merciful oblivionOf such unbroken slumber,And once again began to cumberMy soul with her forgotten cares and sorrows,And show in long perspective the gray morrows,Stretching monotonously on,Forever narrowing but never done,Have I not loathed to live again and said,It would have been far better to be dead,And yet somehow, I know not why,Remained afraid to die!