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