Majestic tomes, you are the tomb Or Aristides Edward Bloom, Who labored, from the world aloof, In reading every page of proof. From A to And, and Aus to Bis Enthusiasm still was his; From Cal to Cha, from Cha to Con His soft-lead pencil still went on. But reaching volume Fra to Gib, He knew at length that he was a sib To Satan; and he sold his soul To reach the section Pay to Pol. Then Pol to Ree, and Shu to Sub He staggered on, and sought a pub. And just completing Vet to Zym, The motor hearse came round for him. He perished, obstinately brave: They laid the Index on his grave. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...LONELY BURIAL by STEPHEN VINCENT BENET EPITAPH: FOR A VIRGIN LADY by COUNTEE CULLEN DEATH'S JEST-BOOK: SIBYLLA'S DIRGE by THOMAS LOVELL BEDDOES TO E. L., ON HIS TRAVELS IN GREECE by ALFRED TENNYSON LOVER'S LAMENT by EVA K. ANGLESBURG |