Dear, they are singing your praises, Now you are gone. But only I saw your going, I . . . alone . . . in the dawn. Dear, they are weeping about you, Now you are dead, And they've placed a granite stone Over your head. I cannot cry any more, Too burning deep is my grief. . . . I dance through my spendthrift days Like a fallen leaf. Faster and faster I whirl Toward the end of my days. Dear, I am drunken with sadness And lost down strange ways. If only the dance would finish Like a flash in the sky . . . oh, soon, If only a storm would come shouting -- Hurl me past stars and moon! | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...INTERIM by CLARISSA SCOTT DELANY AFTER THE WAR by RICHARD THOMAS LE GALLIENNE IRELAND (1847) by DENIS FLORENCE MCCARTHY THE FLIGHT OF THE GEESE by CHARLES GEORGE DOUGLAS ROBERTS PROMISES LIKE A PIE-CRUST by CHRISTINA GEORGINA ROSSETTI SONNET: 99 by WILLIAM SHAKESPEARE |