When, in the gloomy mansion of the dead, This withering heart, this faded form shall sleep; When these fond eyes, at length shall cease to weep, And earth's cold lap receive this feverish head; Envy shall turn away, a tear to shed, And Time's obliterating pinions sweep The spot, where poets shall their vigils keep, To mourn and wander near my freezing bed! Then, my pale ghost, upon the Elysian shore, Shall smile, released from every mortal care; While, doomed love's victim to repine no more, My breast shall bathe in endless rapture there! Ah! no! my restless shade would still deplore, Nor taste that bliss, which Phaon did not share. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...HOOKS AND EYES by KAREN SWENSON THE LITTLE GIRL FOUND, FR. SONGS OF EXPERIENCE by WILLIAM BLAKE CHANSON INNOCENTE: 2, FR. TULIPS by EDWARD ESTLIN CUMMINGS THE WATER MILL by SARAH DOUDNEY THE AEOLIAN HARP; AT THE SURF INN by HERMAN MELVILLE |