How those wet tombstones in the sun Are breathing silently together! Their breath is seen, as though they lived, Like sheep, when out in frosty weather. The dead beneath, that once could breathe, Are nothing now but breathless bones; And is this breath the same as theirs, Now coming from their own tombstones? So, when the end has come at last, And we're consigned to cold damp earth, Our tombstones in the sun will show, By their vain breath, what ours was worth. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE MOTHER'S HEART by CAROLINE ELIZABETH SARAH SHERIDAN NORTON PEARLS OF THE FAITH: 47. AL-HAKIM by EDWIN ARNOLD EMBLEMS OF LOVE: 9. LOVE A TICKLISH GAME by PHILIP AYRES THE MISTLETOE BOUGH by THOMAS HAYNES BAYLY THE TINY HAT UPON THE BROW by LEVI BISHOP |