Classic and Contemporary Poetry
MIMMA BELLA; IN MEMORY OF A LITTLE LIFE: 5, by EUGENE JACOB LEE-HAMILTON Poet's Biography First Line: What wast thou, little baby, that art dead Last Line: Enough for us, thou wast thy baby self. Subject(s): Death - Children; Death - Babies | ||||||||
What wast thou, little baby, that art dead -- A one day's blossom that the hoar-frost nips? A bee that's crushed, the first bright day it sips? A small dropped gem that in the earth we tread? Or cherub's smiling gold-encircled head, That Death from out Life's painted missal rips? Or murmured prayer that barely reached the lips? Or sonnet's fair first line -- the rest unsaid? Oh, 'tis not hard to find what thou wast like; The world is full of fair unfinished things That vanish like a dawn-admonished elf. Life teems with opening forms for Death to strike; The woods are full of unfledged broken wings; Enough for us, thou wast thy baby self. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE LOST CHILDREN by RANDALL JARRELL THE MOURNER by LOUISE MOREY BOWMAN MELANCHOLY; AN ODE by WILLIAM BROOME SISTERS IN ARMS by AUDRE LORDE A BOTANICAL TROPE by WILLIAM MEREDITH FOR MOHAMMED ZEID OF GAZA, AGE 15 by NAOMI SHIHAB NYE SUNKEN GOLD by EUGENE JACOB LEE-HAMILTON |
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