APPARELLED in a mask of joy till now, I knew thee not. Asleep, I see thy face More simply. Sorrow's leisure lets me trace The nicer lines. Thy sealed lids, thy brow, Thy lasting posture, purposes avow; In thy spent form resides a moveless grace. A pageant was thy life, and in its place I find a truth to feed and to endow My heart. Thy wonted mask of joy belied The meaning death's bare attitude makes clear. From living gesture thought went often wide, And I was poor interpreter; but here, Where it would seem our thoughts anew divide, The steady silence draws thy spirit near. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...SPOON RIVER ANTHOLOGY: DOW BRITT by EDGAR LEE MASTERS TO HIS WIFE ON THE 16TH ANNIVERSARY OF HER WEDDING DAY, WITH A RING by SAMUEL BISHOP THE TENTH MUSE: THE VANITY OF ALL WORLDLY THINGS by ANNE BRADSTREET OH, SWEET CONTENT by WILLIAM HENRY DAVIES ON A TREE FALLEN ACROSS THE ROAD (TO HEAR US TALK) by ROBERT FROST ON A GRAVE AT GRINDELWALD by FREDERICK WILLIAM HENRY MYERS TO A BLOCKHEAD by ALEXANDER POPE |