Do not!
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
Men the last wave by
Wave by crying how
Crying how bright
Good men, the man of last wave by
Last wave that crying it how bright
Their frail deeds might have danced in a green bay
Rage, rage, rage against the dying of the light
Wild men who caught and sang the sun in flight
And learn, too late
Grave men near men near death death who see who see with blinding sigh
Wild men who caught and sang the sun in flight
And learn, too late
Grave men near men near death death who see who see with blinding sigh
Grave men near men near death death who see rage against the dying of the light