Away, airy comber of comets! The grass in the wind will be your hair; From your gaping eyes will-o'-wisps Will rise, prisoners in the poor heads . . . Graveyard flowers called Little Flirts Will overgrow your earthy laugh . . . And forget-me-nots, those flowers of dungeons forgot . . . Make light of it: poets' coffins Are but toys to pallbearers, Violin cases with an empty sound . . . They'll think you're dead-the bourgeois are dull- Away, airy comber of comets! | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...BOTHWELL: PART 4 by WILLIAM EDMONSTOUNE AYTOUN HOMAGE TO SEXTUS PROPERTIUS: 3 by EZRA POUND NEW YEAR'S DAWN - BROADWAY by SARA TEASDALE TWILIGHT by HENRY WADSWORTH LONGFELLOW A VISION UPON [THIS CONCEIT] OF THE FAERIE QUEENE (2) by WALTER RALEIGH |