Lay me flat on a drawing-sledge, Wearied enough for such dragging! I need not be fastened by rod or wedge More than bale-filled bagging. More than a meal-sack you throw across Your wagon after the milling; Just as clumsy a weight to toss And the bundle compact from spilling, Save that the grain leaves a trail of dust Which yellows your sleeve and your fingers; But, however you handle, wherever you thrust, No spark of my being lingers. Both from the miller's and freed from grist -- A bag and a body resting -- But the world was a stricter exorcist, More cruel his wheel's divesting! | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE YOUNG WARRIOR by JAMES WELDON JOHNSON ON THE PROPOSAL TO ERECT A MONUMENT IN ENGLAND TO LORD BYRON by EMMA LAZARUS 1914: 3. THE DEAD by RUPERT BROOKE QUA CURSUM VENTUS by ARTHUR HUGH CLOUGH ASPECTS OF THE PINES by PAUL HAMILTON HAYNE LIMERICK by OLIVER BROOK HERFORD ON A CURATE'S COMPLAINT OF HARD DUTY by JONATHAN SWIFT BLESSING THE LIGHTS by ALTER ABELSON THE BURIAL-MARCH OF THE DUNDEE by WILLIAM EDMONSTOUNE AYTOUN |