To-day, the fight: my end is very soon, And sealed the warrant limiting my hours: I knew it walking yesterday at noon Down a deserted garden full of flowers. ... Carelessly sang, pinned roses on my breast, Reached for a cherry-bunch -- and then, then, Death Blew through the garden from the North and East And blilghted every beauty with chill breath. I looked, and ah, my wraith before me stood, His head all battered in by violent blows: The fruit between my lips to clotted blood Was transubstantiate, and the pale rose Smelt sickly, till it seemed through a swift tear-flood That dead men blossomed in the garden-close. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE FUNERAL TREE OF THE SOKOKIS by JOHN GREENLEAF WHITTIER VILLANELLE OF CITY AND COUNTRY by ZOE AKINS AN AUTUMN NIGHT by JOHANNA AMBROSIUS THE OUTCAST by HELEN MCCRORY ARENDELL THREE THINGS by JOSEPH AUSLANDER RIDDLE by ANNA LETITIA BARBAULD |