OH! snatch'd away in beauty's bloom, On thee shall press no ponderous tomb; But on thy turf shall roses rear Their leaves, the earliest of the year; And the wild cypress wave in tender gloom: And oft by you blue gushing stream Shall Sorrow lean her drooping head, And feed deep thought with many a dream, And lingering pause and lightly tread; Fond wretch! as if her step disturb'd the dead! Away! we know that tears are vain, That death nor heeds nor hears distress: Will this unteach us to complain? Or make one mourner weep the less? And thou -- who tell'st me to forget, Thy looks are wan, thine eyes are wet. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...WHAT THING A BIRD WOULD LOVE by ROBERT FROST A MORE ANCIENT MARINER by BLISS CARMAN THE COASTERS by THOMAS FLEMING DAY TO MR. THOMAS SOUTHERNE, ON HIS BIRTHDAY, 1742 by ALEXANDER POPE ON CRITICS; IN IMITATION OF ANACREON by MATTHEW PRIOR PRAYER TO THE VIRGIN OF CHARTRES by HENRY BROOKS ADAMS COMPLAINS OF THE COURT by PHILIP AYRES |