PASSING feet pause, as they pass, By this little slab of slate. People, if they go this way, By the linchen'd wicket gate, At each other look and say, "Pity, pity! sad it was!" Here have fallen as many tears As the months in her short years. Seven and ten brief sunny springs; Scarce so many winter snows: Here the little speedwell keeps Watch beside the pale dog-rose; On this hillock, while she sleeps Underneath, the red-breast sings. Wedded on an April day! In the Autumn laid away! | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...READING WHITMAN IN A TOILET STALL by TIMOTHY LIU WINTER GARDEN THEATRE by EDGAR LEE MASTERS FONTENOY, 1745: 1. BEFORE THE BATTLE: NIGHT by EMILY LAWLESS RUMORS FROM AN AEOLIAN HARP by HENRY DAVID THOREAU INTROSPECTION by GEORGE ARNOLD IN THE GARDEN (WITH APOLOGIES TO ALFRED NOYES) by MARJORIE W. BRACHLOW |