scOtt

<p><p><p>Do not go gentle into that good night,</p></p></p>

<p><p><p>Old age should burn and rave at close of day;</p></p></p>

<p><p><p>Rage, rage against the dying of the light.</p></p></p>

<p><p><p>Though wise men at their end know dark is right,</p></p></p>

<p><p><p>Because their words had forked no lightning they</p></p></p>

<p><p><p>Do not go gentle into that good night.</p></p></p>

<p><p><p>Good men, the last wave by, crying how bright</p></p></p>

<p><p><p>Their frail deeds might have danced in a green bay,</p></p></p>

<p><p><p>Rage, rage against the dying of the light.</p></p></p>

<p><p><p>Wild men who caught and sang the sun in flight,</p></p></p>

<p><p><p>And learn, too late, they grieved it on its way,</p></p></p>

<p><p><p>Do not go gentle into that good night.</p></p></p>

<p><p><p>Grave men, near death, who see with blinding sight</p></p></p>

<p><p><p>Blind eyes could blaze like meteors and be gay,</p></p></p>

<p><p><p>Rage, rage against the dying of the light.</p></p></p>

<p><p><p>And you, my father, there on the sad height,</p></p></p>

<p><p><p>Curse, bless, me now with your fierce tears, I pray.</p></p></p>

<p><p><p>Do not go gentle into that good night.</p></p></p>

<p><p><p>Rage, rage against the dying of the light.</p></p></p>