O Youth, O Beauty, ye who fed the flame That here was quenched, breathe not your lover's name. He lies not here. Where'er ye dwell anew, He loves again, he dies again, in you. Pluck the wild rose, and weave the laurel crown To deck your glory, not his false renown. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...ARABIA by WALTER JOHN DE LA MARE THE UNSUNG HEROES by PAUL LAURENCE DUNBAR THE ORIGIN OF DIDACTIC POETRY by JAMES RUSSELL LOWELL THE BURIAL OF SIR JOHN MOORE AT [OR AFTER] CORUNNA by CHARLES WOLFE ROMANCE by FRANCES HALLEY BROCKETT VAIN REPENTANCE by PHOEBE CARY |