SPEED on the night-wind's wing, my sighs, While bends my head to earth; Go seek the grave where CURRIE lies, The grave of parted worth! The piercing, rapid, ardent mind, To useful science bent; The expansive soul, to human kind With free devotion lent; Ambition high of noble fame, From pride, from envy clear, That burnt, a bright benignant flame, His onward course to cheer; The large discourse of lucid flow, With bland persuasion fraught; The beaming glance, that lurked below The furrowed brow of thought; The helping hand, the watchful eye, Awake to every call; The heartfelt tone of sympathy That dearer was than all: -- These, these, grim Death! thy hasty prey, To yon cold tomb are borne; And Memory, still, from day to day Must linger there to mourn. Speed on the night-wind's wing, my sighs, While bends my head to earth; Go seek the grave where CURRIE lies, The grave of parted worth! | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...LINES INSCRIBED UPON A CUP FORMED FROM A SKULL by GEORGE GORDON BYRON SAILING BEYOND SEAS (OLD STYLE) by JEAN INGELOW WHEN I BUY PICTURES by MARIANNE MOORE A LIFE'S PARALLELS by CHRISTINA GEORGINA ROSSETTI CABOOSE THOUGHTS by CARL SANDBURG NORTHERN FARMER, OLD STYLE by ALFRED TENNYSON ARETEMIAS by ANTIPATER OF SIDON |