Last, Stone, a little yet; And then this dust forget. But thou, fair Rose, bloom on. For she who is gone Was lovely too; nor would she grieve to be Sharing in solitude her dreams with thee. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...AN EPIGRAM ON WOMAN by PHILIP AYRES DEATH by MALTBIE DAVENPORT BABCOCK THE BALLADE OF THE GOLDEN HORN by LEONARD BACON (1887-1954) DEPARTURE by EDMUND CHARLES BLUNDEN THE DEAD BRONCHO-BUSTER by BERTON BRALEY TIME'S CHANGES, FR. THE ART OF POLITICS by JAMES BRAMSTON |