THAT awful name which oft inspires Impatient hopes, and fond desires, Can to another pain impart, And thrill with fear the shuddering heart. This mystic word is often read O'er the still chambers of the dead. Say, what contains the breathless clay, When the fleet soul is wing'd away?— Those marble monuments proclaim My little wily wanton's name. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE BREAKING by MARGARET STEELE ANDERSON LILIES: 17 by GEORGE BARLOW (1847-1913) LEISTON ABBEY by BERNARD BARTON OLD HOMES by EDMUND CHARLES BLUNDEN A MAN'S DEBT by FRED EMERSON BROOKS EPISTLE TO A YOUNG FRIEND by ROBERT BURNS THE BONNIE LAD THAT'S FAR AWAY by ROBERT BURNS |