Quiet he lived, and quietly died;
Nor, like the unwilling tide,
Did once complain or strive
To stay one brief hour more alive.
But as a summer wave
Serenely for a while
Will lift a crest to the sun,
Then sink again, so he
Back to the bright heavens gave
An answering smile;
Then quietly, having run
His course, bowed down his head,
And sank unmurmuringly,
Sank back into the sea,
The silent, the unfathomable sea
Of all the happy dead.
by J.D.C. FELLOW (?-?)
Public Domain Poetry
unbolt me 
I want to comment. I really do. But I don’t know what this is about. Did someone you know really die? Is this a real poem or one you wrote yourself (not that it makes it any less real, I guess)? And… uh, actually I think that’s all I need to know.
Oh, wait – John Dynham Cornish Pellow MBE (1890–1960) was an English poet and civil servant.
I’m that case: y’all have a nice day. 😃
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And you too, Sir Robert! 😊🙏
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Who’s that? Did who? Wha?
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😂
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Stop
Sent from my iPhone
>
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😮
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Ode To The Poor Fellow/ To he who’d swim/This stretch of beach-/Please earnestly caution him-/Be sound of limb/And don’t overreach. To he who’s died/Taking a casual dip/ Didn’t heed this tip/Remember time and tide/And avoid the rip.
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Some good advice there. 😮
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