THEN whence, O Death! thy dreariness? We know That every flower the breeze's flattering breath Wooes to a blush, and love-like murmuring low, Dies but to multiply its bloom in death: The rill's glad, prattling infancy, that fills The woodlands with its song of innocent glee, Is passing through the heart of shadowy hills, To swell the eternal manhood of the sea; And the great stars, Creation's minstrelfires Are rolling toward the central source of light, Where all their separate glory but expires To merge into one world's unbroken might; There is no death but change, soul claspeth soul, And all are portion of the immortal whole. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...COUNTRY SUMMER by LEONIE ADAMS THE MAKING OF MAN by JOHN WHITE CHADWICK ON THE DEATH OF MRS. (NOW LADY) THROCKMORTON'S BULLFINCH by WILLIAM COWPER JAMES WHITCOMB RILEY (FROM A WESTERNER'S POINT OF VIEW) by PAUL LAURENCE DUNBAR GENTLEMEN-RANKERS by RUDYARD KIPLING |