Amid the flames, self burned, the great bird dies, White embers wait his new birth as a nest, But if he said, "Perhaps I shall not rise, "I think of sleepperhaps the ash is best." | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...EVENING (1) by EMILY DICKINSON AMERICA: SONNET 2 by SYDNEY THOMPSON DOBELL IN HOSPITAL: 4. BEFORE by WILLIAM ERNEST HENLEY SIDNEY GODOLPHIN by CLINTON SCOLLARD THE RAZOR-SELLER by JOHN WOLCOTT THE LUTE OBEYS by THOMAS WYATT TO DR. AIKIN ON HIS COMPLAINING THAT SHE NEGLECTED HIM by ANNA LETITIA BARBAULD |