As sometimes in a dead man's face, To those that watch it more and more, A likeness, hardly seen before, Comes out -- to some one of his race; So, dearest, now thy brows are cold, I see thee what thou art, and know Thy likeness to the wise below, Thy kindred with the great of old. But there is more than I can see, And what I see I leave unsaid, Nor speak it, knowing Death has made His darkness beautiful with thee. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE SHAPE OF THE CORONER by WALLACE STEVENS FOR THAT HE LOOKED NOT UPON HER by GEORGE GASCOIGNE THE DONG WITH A LUMINOUS NOSE by EDWARD LEAR TO TOUSSAINT L'OUVERTURE by WILLIAM WORDSWORTH AFTER THE NIGHT by NOUREDDIN ADDIS SWORD AND BUCKLER; OR, SERVING-MAN'S DEFENCE: TO THE READER by WILLIAM BASSE UNDER A THOUSAND WORDS by EDMUND CHARLES BLUNDEN |