Once, with death near, I thought: What will it mean, This lying still, with no small task to hew -- The moonlight gone, the pines, the lace-trimmed blue Midsummer skies when rains have washed them clean? I thought of how we strolled through meadows green With April, gathering lilies drenched in dew; I thought of many things, but most of you, Love on our lips, and no dark fear between, A petal fallen from its flower will leave The flower scarred, its beauty incomplete, Yet with no loss of hue or perfumed breath. You I am petal of can never grieve, Knowing our love that made the hours sweet Will live beyond the sleep that men call death. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE LITTLE GIRL LOST, FR. SONGS OF EXPERIENCE by WILLIAM BLAKE THE PRISONER OF CHILLON: INTRODUCTORY SONNET by GEORGE GORDON BYRON POLLY by WILLIAM BRIGHTY RANDS WIFE, CHILDREN AND FRIENDS by WILLIAM ROBERT SPENCER BOY BRITTAN [FEBRUARY 8, 1862] by BYRON FORCEYTHE WILLSON |