THOUGH short her strain nor sung with mighty boast, Yet there the power of song had dwelling-room; So lives her name for ever, nor lies lost Beneath the shadow of the wings of gloom, While bards of after days, in countless host, Slumber and fade forgotten in the tomb. Better the swan's brief note than thousand cries Of rooks in springtime blown about the skies. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...SONG:SO WHY DOES THIS DEAD CARNATION by HAYDEN CARRUTH AT DOVER CLIFFS, JULY 20, 1787 by WILLIAM LISLE BOWLES GERONTION by THOMAS STEARNS ELIOT SANCTUARY by LOUISE IMOGEN GUINEY LUCY (4) by WILLIAM WORDSWORTH IMAGES: 1 by RICHARD ALDINGTON THE CARPENTER by AMY BRUNER ALMY HILLS by GUILLAUME APOLLINAIRE ON MRS PRIESTLEY'S LEAVING WARRINGTON by ANNA LETITIA BARBAULD |