WHILE with Ambition's hectic flame He wastes the midnight oil, And dreams, high-throned on heights of fame, To rest him from his toil, -- Death's Angel, like a vast eclipse, Above him spreads her wings, And fans the embers of his lips To ashes as he sings. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE CHILDREN'S HOUR by HENRY WADSWORTH LONGFELLOW INGRATITUDE by THOMAS BAILEY ALDRICH THE WORLD'S WAY by THOMAS BAILEY ALDRICH GREENES FUNERALLS: SONNET 4 by RICHARD BARNFIELD GOOD-BYE by WILFRID SCAWEN BLUNT |