I who thus have brought life down To a question and a frown, Resolving all the savage Spring The bud unburst, the fledgling wing To a gray round of desk and bell, A universe within a cell, Shall doubtless as the moments crawl See Death contract and grow as small As some poor human wish to sleep Beyond the need to rise and weep. I shall lose in coming, going, That pale country past all knowing, Shrivel it with stare and guess, Map it out with "no" and "yes," And consume in arguments The vast lines of its reticence. As with life, when Death shall come, I'll take its measure with my thumb. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...BALLADE OF DEAD LADIES by FRANCOIS VILLON MY ORCHA'D IN LINDEN LEA by WILLIAM BARNES FAREWELL TO HIS WIFE by GEORGE GORDON BYRON WITH WHOM IS NO VARIABLENESS, NEITHER SHADOW OF TURNING' by ARTHUR HUGH CLOUGH ADVICE TO A LADY [IN AUTUMN] by PHILIP DORMER STANHOPE LILIES: 13. 'LET US NEVER COMFORT EACH OTHER INTO SLEEP' by GEORGE BARLOW (1847-1913) THE TRIUMPHS OF THY CONQUERING POWER by WILLIAM HILEY BATHURST |