THIS pile thou seest built out of flesh, not stone, Contains no shroud within, nor mould'ring bone. This bloodless trunk is destitute of tomb Which may the soul-fled mansion enwomb. This seeming sepulchre (to tell the troth) Is neither tomb nor body, and yet both. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...FRAGMENT ON DEATH by FRANCOIS VILLON A BALLAD OF SARSFIELD; OR, THE BURSTING OF THE GUNS by AUBREY THOMAS DE VERE THE MOURNING GARMENT: THE DESCRIPTION OF THE SHEPHERD AND HIS WIFE by ROBERT GREENE THE WOODLARK by GERARD MANLEY HOPKINS THE PROGRESS OF POETRY by JONATHAN SWIFT EPISTLE TO DR. ENFIELD ON HIS REVISITING WARRINGTON IN 1789 by ANNA LETITIA BARBAULD SONNET: 19 by RICHARD BARNFIELD STANZAS ON THE DEATH OF SIR SAMUEL ROMILLY by BERNARD BARTON |