The Swan Song

This was a poem written by Suraj Kishan Munshi a few hours before he committed suicide. And this one's really special...

I have a presentiment my time has come; Every passing breeze a sad dirge sings, I read my death warrant in each new blossom, Each rising star a melancholy message brings.

Still, still, I shall sing on, as a swan sings Ere it dies and enchant the ears of men; My songs shall vibrate while my soul takes wings, And shall mock in the face of oblivion.

Flow, flow, sweet melodies! once this bosom Was your home, here you built your nest ; And while the bees did into the ears of blushing rose hum Lulled by elyssian dreams, here you rocked in nest.

Stay, and O yet stay awhile, my muse, my queen! Why your visits have grown so rare and few? Leave not your ancient home! This crumbling ruin, My grief shattered heart was once dear to you!

O! Fill the world with your last sad music, And as you faint sweet and sweeter grow! Ebb not with my ebbing life, but like Expiring tapers bright and brighter glow!

Now my task is done, come, O my bride death, come, With loosened tresses and uplifted veil! How sweet is thy face! Oh! press me to thy soft panting bosom And let me melt, let me dissolve in thy embrace!

I loved not the race of men, nor men me; I cared not for this world's paltry show; Three things I adored; freedom, nature, beauty, Now my last song is sung, I go....