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letra de on death - jack beeson

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why should we not, as well, desire death
as sleep? no difference, but a little breath;
’tis all but rest; ’tis all but a releasing
our tired limbs; why then not alike pleasing?
being burthened with the sorrows of the day
we wish for night; which, being come, we lay
our bodies down; yet when our very breath
is irksome to us, we’re afraid of death:
our sleep is oft accompanied with frights
distracting dreams and dangers of the nights;
when in the sheets of death, our bodiеs sure
from all such evils, and we sleep sеcure:
what matter, down, or earth? what boots it whether?
alas, our body’s sensible of neither:
things that are senseless, feel nor pains nor ease;
tell me; and why not worms as well as fleas?
in sleep, we know not whether our closed eyes
shall ever wake; from death we’re sure to rise:
aye, but ’tis long first; o, is that our fears?
dare we trust god for nights? and not for years?

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