MY days among the dead are passed; Around me I behold, Where'er these casual eyes are cast, The mighty minds of old; My never failing-friends are they, With whom I converse day by day. With them I take delight in weal, And seek relief in woe; And while I understand and feel How much to them I owe, My cheeks have often been bedewed With tears of thoughtful gratitude. My thoughts are with the dead; with them I live in long-past years; Their virtues love, their faults condemn, Partake their hopes and fears, And from their lessons seek and find Instruction with an humble mind. My hopes are with the dead; anon My place with them will be, And I with them shall travel on Through all futurity: Yet leaving here a name, I trust, That will not perish in the dust. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE IMPORTANCE OF GREEN by JAMES GALVIN AFTER WRITING A POEM by DAVID IGNATOW CALLING DREAMS by GEORGIA DOUGLAS JOHNSON DOMESDAY BOOK: THE GOVERNOR by EDGAR LEE MASTERS TO A FRIEND WRITING ON CABARET DANCERS by EZRA POUND THE SONG OF THE MAD WOMAN'S SON by KAREN SWENSON TOWERS OF SIMON RODIA; FOR HOWARD W. SWENSON 1903-1081 by KAREN SWENSON |