MY father who owned the wagon-shop And grew rich shoeing horses Sent me to the University of Montreal. I learned nothing and returned home, Roaming the fields with Bert Kessler, Hunting quail and snipe. At Thompson's Lake the trigger of my gun Caught in the side of the boat And a great hole was shot through my heart. Over me a fond father erected this marble shaft, On which stands the figure of a woman Carved by an Italian artist. They say the ashes of my namesake Were scattered near the pyramid of Caius Cestius Somewhere near Rome. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE SPHINX by RALPH WALDO EMERSON THE FOOL AND THE POET by ALEXANDER POPE SENTINEL SONGS: 1 by ABRAM JOSEPH RYAN SONNET: 18 by WILLIAM SHAKESPEARE NORTHERN FARMER, OLD STYLE by ALFRED TENNYSON |