HOW grand she is enthroned among the dead, The graves like trophies all about her spread! Have these not perished as in fable old With some unfathomed riddle in their hold? But what the riddle that she now doth ask, The might of man so fatally to task? Well may we fancy "What are Life and Death?" To be the question that has hushed their breath. Sphinx! Life and Death in thee their type have found, For so are they in mystic oneness bound; Fruitful as woman, beautiful as she, Dread as the lion in his majesty. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE SACK OF BALTIMORE by THOMAS OSBORNE DAVIS ON THE DEATH OF BENJAMIN FRANKLIN by PHILIP FRENEAU FESTOONS OF FISHES by ALFRED FRANCIS KREYMBORG DEWEY IN MANILA BAY [MAY 1, 1898] by RICHARD VORHEES RISLEY THE OWL by PHILIP EDWARD THOMAS THE SUPLIANTS: IO. CHORUS by AESCHYLUS SONNET: 'EVEN THIS WILL PASS AWAY' by THOMAS BAILEY ALDRICH AUNT CAROLINE by ANNYE LEWIS ALLISON PATTY MORGAN THE MILKMAID'S STORY: 'LOOK AT THE CLOCK!' by RICHARD HARRIS BARHAM |