Here sleeps a Frenchman: Would I could Grave in his language on this wood His many virtues, grace and wit! But then who'd read what I had writ? Nay, when the tongues of Babel cease, One word were all sufficient -- Peace! | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...REPULSE by GEORGIA DOUGLAS JOHNSON THE CAMBODIAN BOX by KAREN SWENSON TANGENTIAL by LOUIS UNTERMEYER AS KINGFISHERS CATCH FIRE by GERARD MANLEY HOPKINS TALES OF A WAYSIDE INN: THE FIRST DAY: ROBERT OF SICILY by HENRY WADSWORTH LONGFELLOW ARMS AND THE BOY by WILFRED OWEN UNDER THE SHADE OF THE TREES [MAY 10, 1863] by MARGARET JUNKIN PRESTON |