I will not shrink, knowing sweet seas of grain, To hold grass in my arms some long last sleep. I who have loved the fierce wind-mounted rain On rattling tile will never lie too deep To hear and bless its silver-shod swift hoof Upon my bier. Nor flame shall compass me But I shall trace again its crimson woof Through winter evenings' lovely tapestry. No greater joy -- consumed heart-whole to go Upward with sparks and smoke of incensed pine, So rival stars and fade! But marble? No. No graven urn may hold this heart of mine; No flowers, rain nor flame may stone exclude, Nor seal me from them in dead solitude. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...HASTE NOT! REST NOT! by JOHANN WOLFGANG VON GOETHE IN MEMORIAM A.H.H.: 5 by ALFRED TENNYSON A JAPANESE FAN by MARGARET VELEY BRUCE: INTRODUCTION by JOHN BARBOUR MISADVENTURES AT MARGATE; A LEGEND OF JARVIS'S JETTY by RICHARD HARRIS BARHAM |