Your "Youth" has fallen from its shelf, And you have fallen, you yourself. They knocked a soldier on the head, I mourn the poet who fell dead. And yet I think it was by chance, By oversight you died in France. You were so poor an outward man, So small against your spirit's span, That Nature, being tired awhile, Saw but your outward human pile; And Nature, who would never let A sun with light still in it set, Before you even reached your sky, In inadvertence let you die. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...GARDEN FANCIES: 2. SIBRANDUS SCHAFNABURGENSIS by ROBERT BROWNING RIDDLE ON THE LETTER H (1) by CATHERINE MARIA FANSHAWE TO THE RIVER CHARLES by HENRY WADSWORTH LONGFELLOW SONNET: 65 by WILLIAM SHAKESPEARE THE WIDOW; SAPPHICS by ROBERT SOUTHEY UNDERWOODS: BOOK 1: 5. THE HOUSE BEAUTIFUL by ROBERT LOUIS STEVENSON |