In what school then sit the dead, Who persuades and conjures them, Torn from earth, distraught, alone, Grafted on what towering stem, To forget, to turn the head, To deny what they have known? By what language are they healed, They who still remember breath? Who has taught them to embrace The neat disloyalty of death, And with powerful hand has sealed Their eyes to the beseeching face? And of you, the one who came Most lately to this unseen state, Must I think of you as well, Content and dazed and separate, Unlistening where I cry your name— Deserter, by what spell? | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...EPISTLE TO AUGUSTA by GEORGE GORDON BYRON MY SWEET BROWN GAL by PAUL LAURENCE DUNBAR REBEL MOTHER'S LULLABY by SHANE LESLIE THE KING OF DENMARK'S RIDE by CAROLINE ELIZABETH SARAH SHERIDAN NORTON THE IDEA by AGNES MARY F. ROBINSON THE WOLD WALL by WILLIAM BARNES |