ALL summer long the people knelt And listened at the sick man's door: Each pang which that pale sufferer felt Throbbed through the land from shore to shore; And as the all-dreaded hour drew nigh, What breathless watching, night and day! What tears, what prayers! Great God on high, Have we forgotten how to pray! O broken-hearted, widowed one, Forgive us if we press too near! Dead is our husband, father, son, -- For we are all one household here. And not alone here by the sea, And not in his own land alone, Are tears of anguish shed with thee -- In this one loss the world is one. EPITAPH A man not perfect, but of heart So high, of such heroic rage, That even his hopes became a part Of earth's eternal heritage. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...POST-MORTEM by EMILY DICKINSON ARABELLA STUART by FELICIA DOROTHEA HEMANS THE WIDOW'S MITE by FREDERICK LOCKER-LAMPSON CHRIST'S KINGDOM AMONG THE GENTILES by ISAAC WATTS FOR THE INAUGURATION OF A PUBLIC SCHOOL, CAMDEN, NEW JERSEY by WALT WHITMAN |