@3Dead! all's done with!@1 R. Browning. THESE blossoms that I bring, This song that here I sing, These tears that now I shed, I give unto the dead. There is no more to be done, Nothing beneath the sun, All the long ages through, Nothing -- by me for you. The tale is told to the end ; This, ev'n, I may not know -- If we were friend and friend, If we were foe and foe. All's done with utterly, All's done with. Death to me Was ever Death indeed ; To me no kindly creed Consolatory was given. You were of earth, not Heaven. . . . This dreary day, things seem Vain shadows in a dream, Or some strange, pictured show ; And mine own tears that flow, My hidden tears that fall, The vainest of them all. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE PRINCESS: SONG by ALFRED TENNYSON PSALM 119 by OLD TESTAMENT BIBLE AMERICAN CRADLE SONG by ROBERT JONES BURDETTE MORNING ON SHINNECOCK by OLIVA WARD BUSH A BOOK OF AIRS: SONG 6 by THOMAS CAMPION TOWARDS DEMOCRACY: PART 3. O THOU WHOSE FORM by EDWARD CARPENTER |