A wreath of poppy flowers, With leaves of lotus blended, Is carved on Life's facade of hours, From night to night suspended. Along the columned wall, From birth's low portal starting, It flows, with even rise and fall, To death's dark door of parting. How short each measured arc, How brief the columns' number! The wreath begins and ends in dark, And leads from sleep to slumber. The marble garland seems, With braided leaf and bloom, To deck the palace of our dreams As if it were a tomb. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...SALLY SIMKIN'S LAMENT by THOMAS HOOD I SAW THREE SHIPS by MOTHER GOOSE ON BEING ASKED FOR A WAR POEM by WILLIAM BUTLER YEATS BOTHWELL: PART 2 by WILLIAM EDMONSTOUNE AYTOUN T.T. IN COMMENDATION OF THE AUTHOR HIS WORKE by RICHARD BARNFIELD |