Sing thou my songs for me when I am dead! Soul of my soul, some day thou wilt awake To see the morning on the hilltops break, And the far summits flame with rosy red-- But I shall wake not, though above my head Armies should thunder; nor for Love's sweet sake, Though he the tenderest pilgrimage should make Where I am lying in my grassy bed. I shall be silent, with my song half sung; I shall be dumb, with half the story told; I shall be mute, leaving the half unsaid. Take thou the harp ere it be yet unstrung-- Wake thou the lyre ere yet its chords be cold-- Sing thou my songs, and thine, when I am dead! | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...I WOULD NOT LIVE ALWAY by WILLIAM AUGUSTUS MUHLENBERG THE SECRETARY; WRITTEN AT THE HAGUE, 1696 by MATTHEW PRIOR THE CRICKET by FREDERICK GODDARD TUCKERMAN THE TRANSLATED WAY by FRANKLIN PIERCE ADAMS A DEDICATION TO ATHENE by AULUS LICINIUS ARCHIAS HARMONIES OF THE EVENING by CHARLES BAUDELAIRE IN VINCULIS; SONNETS WRITTEN IN AN IRISH PRISON: HOW SHALL I BUILD by WILFRID SCAWEN BLUNT HINC LACHRIMAE; OR THE AUTHOR TO AURORA: 5 by WILLIAM BOSWORTH |