Do Not Go Gentle

Leitch-Thomas
 Do not go gentle into that good night
 Old age should burn and rave at close of day
 Rage, rage against the dying of the light.
 Though wise men at their end know dark is right
 Because their words had forked no lightning
 They do not go gentle into that good night.
 Good men, the last wave by crying how bright
 Their frail deeds might have danced in a green bay
 Rage, rage against the dying of the light.
 Wild men who caught and sang the sun in flight
 And learn, too late, they grieved it on its way
 Do not go gentle into that good night.
 Grave men, near death, who see with blinding sight
 Blind eyes could blaze like meteors and be gay
 Rage, rage against the dying of the light.
 And you, my father, there on the sad height
 Curse, bless me now with your fierce tears
 I pray, do not go gentle into that good night.
 Rage, rage against the dying of the light
 Do not go gentle into that good night.
 Rage, rage against the dying of the light
 Do not go gentle into that good night.
 Rage, rage against the dying of the light
 The dying of the light.