No new poems his brush will trace: Even his fame is dead. His old poems are deep in dust At the bottom of boxes and cupboards. Once lately, when someone was singing, Suddenly I heard a verse -- Before I had time to catch the words A pain had stabbed my heart. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...HYMN OF THE CITY by WILLIAM CULLEN BRYANT MONUMENT MOUNTAIN by WILLIAM CULLEN BRYANT THE BLISSFUL DAY by ROBERT BURNS FOURTH BOOK OF AIRS: SONG 7. CHERRY RIPE by THOMAS CAMPION MY NOVEMBER GUEST by ROBERT FROST EPITAPHS OF THE WAR, 1914-18: CONVOY ESCORT by RUDYARD KIPLING |