The Wain upon the northern steep Descends and lifts away. Oh I will sit me down and weep For bones in Africa. For pay and medals, name and rank, Things that he has not found, He hove the Cross to heaven and sank The pole-star underground. And now he does not even see Signs of the nadir roll At night over the ground where he Is buried with the pole. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE GREAT CAROUSAL by LOUIS UNTERMEYER A BOOK OF AIRS: SONG 2 by THOMAS CAMPION SEVEN TIMES SIX [ - GIVING IN MARRIAGE] by JEAN INGELOW EPITAPH FOR ONE WHO WOULD NOT BE BURIED IN WESTMINSTER ABBEY by ALEXANDER POPE THE HAYLOFT by ROBERT LOUIS STEVENSON THE LADY OF SHALOTT by ALFRED TENNYSON |