Poor Body, sitting there so calm, With scarcely any breath Are we rehearsing that last act, When we shall meet with Death? Our fire of life is burning low, And we can feel the cold Yet we have had a glorious time, When all our days are told. Rest, tired Body, rest in peace, And trust the Mind, this hour: With thoughts too kind to tempt the flesh To act beyond its power. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE BELL by WILLIAM HENRY DAVIES PAST AND PRESENT by ROWLAND EYLES EGERTON-WARBURTON THE VOICE OF SPRING by FELICIA DOROTHEA HEMANS NIGHT AND DAY by SIDNEY LANIER AT THE CEDARS by DUNCAN CAMPBELL SCOTT EURIPIDES by ALEXANDER AETOLUS |