Edward Rowland Sill (1841-1889)

"From Poems." (Sharp)

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"Quem Metui Moritura"

AEneid, iv. 604.

What need have I to fear--so soon to die?
Let me work on, not watch and wait in dread:
What will it matter, when that I am dead
That they bore hate or love that near me lie?
'Tis but a lifetime, and the end is nigh
At best or worst. Let me lift up my head
And firmly, as with inner courage, tread
Mine own appointed way on mandates high.
Pain could but bring from all its evil store,
The close of pain: hate's venom could but kill;
Repulse, defeat, desertion, could no more,
Let me have lived my life, not cowered until
The unhindered and unchastened hour was here.
So soon--what is there now for me to fear?

(Text from American Sonnets)