In yonder halls reclining Are forms surpassing fair, And brilliant lights are shining, But, oh! the dead are there! There's music, song and dance, There's banishment of care, And mirth in every glance, But, oh! the dead are there! The wine cup's sparkling glow Blends with the viands rare, There's revelry and show, But still, the dead are there! 'Neath that flow of song and mirth Runs the current of despair, But the simple sons of earth Know not the dead are there! They'll shudder start and tremble, They'll weep in wild despair When the solemn truth breaks on them, That the dead, the dead are there! | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...IN A CUBAN GARDEN by SARA TEASDALE THE FLESH AND THE SPIRIT by ANNE BRADSTREET A BEAUTIFUL YOUNG NYMPH GOING TO BED by JONATHAN SWIFT SEASONS by ASCLEPIADES OF SAMOS AFTER CONSTRUING by ARTHUR CHRISTOPHER BENSON THE POET, AND HIS INTERPRETERS by LOUISA SARAH BEVINGTON THE LOVE SONNETS OF PROTEUS: 103. WRITTEN AT FLORENCE: 1 by WILFRID SCAWEN BLUNT |