O DEEP grave eyes! that long have seemed to gaze On our low level from far loftier days, O grand gray head! an aureole seemed to gird, Drawn from the spirit's pure, immaculate rays! At length death's signal sounds! From weary eyes Pass the pale phantoms of our earth and skies; The gray head droops; the museful lips are closed On life's vain questionings and more vain replies! Like some gaunt oak wert thou, that lonely stands 'Mid fallen trunks in outworn desert lands; Still sound at core, with rhythmic leaves that stir To soft swift touches of aerial hands. Ah! long we viewed thee thus, forlornly free, In that dead grove the sole unravished tree; Lo! the dark axe man smites! the oak lies low That towered in lonely calm o'er land and sea! | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...GOOD FRIDAY, 1613. RIDING WESTWARD by JOHN DONNE THE THIRD OF FEBRUARY, 1852 by ALFRED TENNYSON CITY OF ORGIES by WALT WHITMAN THE MAGPIES IN PICARDY by T. P. CAMERON WILSON THE ASS IN THE LION'S SKIN by AESOP APRIL by OBADIAH CYRUS AURINGER LILIES: 28. NOW by GEORGE BARLOW (1847-1913) |