“My Days Among the Dead Are Past” (A Poem)

In 1818, English poet Robert Southey commented on the life of the scholar, remarking the intellectual, in his pursuit of knowledge, is constantly locked away in libraries surrounded by the works of dead thinkers.[1] While Southey finds comfort in this factor, attesting to the companionship and morality of these deceased authors, he provides an intriguing (and often overlooked) glimpse into the realm of academia: the Burkean engagement with conversations started and perpetuated by long-since-gone scholars (and the act of joining those ranks to future intellectuals after one’s passing).[2]

My days among the Dead are past;

Around me I behold,

Where’er these casual eyes are cast,

The mighty minds of old;

My never-failing friends are they,

With whom I converse day by day.

 

With them I take delight in weal,

And seek relief in woe;

And while I understand and feel

How much to them I owe,

My cheeks have often been bedew’d

With tears of thoughtful gratitude.

 

My thoughts are with the Dead; with them

I live in long-past years,

Their virtues love, their faults condemn,

Partake their hopes and fears,

And from their lessons seek and find

Instruction with an humble mind.

 

My hopes are with the Dead; anon

My place with them will be,

And I with them shall travel on

Through all Futurity;

Yet leaving here a name, I trust,

That will not perish in the dust.[3]

 

Works Referenced

 

Pratt, Lynda, ed. Robert Southey: Poetical Works, 1793-1810. London: Routledge, 2016.

 

Southey, Robert. “My Days Among the Dead Are Past.” Poems of Robert Southey. London: Macmillan and Company, 1895. 1-2.

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[1] Pratt, xxi.

[2] Pratt, xxi-xxii.

[3] Southey, 1-2.