I LOVED, was loved. The puff of smoke called Life Could give no more. Nothing but dreams remain. So, having given over bootless strife, I lie where I may dream, nor dream in vain. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...VIGNETTES OVERSEAS: 1. OFF GIBRALTAR by SARA TEASDALE VANQUISHED; ON THE DEATH OF GENERAL GRANT by FRANCIS FISHER BROWNE FOR CHARLIE'S SAKE by JOHN WILLIAMSON PALMER ITALIAN MUSIC IN DAKOTA (THE SEVENTEENTH - THE FINEST REGIMENTAL BAND) by WALT WHITMAN LADY-SLIPPER by STELLA PFEIFFER BAISCH |