I asked if I got sick and died, would you With my black funeral go walking too, If you'd stand close to hear them talk or pray While I'm let down in that steep bank of clay. And, No, you said, for if you saw a crew Of living idiots pressing round that new Oak coffin -- they alive, I dead beneath That board -- you'd rave and rend them with your teeth. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...METRICAL FEET by SAMUEL TAYLOR COLERIDGE THE NAME OF JESUS by JOHN NEWTON THE ROYAL CROWN by ISRAEL ABRAHAMS SONG OF THE SPANISH JEWS by GRACE AGUILAR LAURENCE BLOOMFIELD IN IRELAND: 6. SPRING by WILLIAM ALLINGHAM THE PILGRIM by ANNA HEMPSTEAD BRANCH THE MOTHER LOVE by RICHARD EUGENE BURTON |