I died at sea; and homeward bound, I journey half the world around To rest where native dust is found. 'Tis strange, if dust be dust, that I E'en now to dust returning, sigh As dust with kindred dust to lie. But haply, as from sire to son, From son to sire emotions run That make the lineal current one. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...EROS by ROBERT SEYMOUR BRIDGES TO AN UNBORN PAUPER CHILD by THOMAS HARDY SPOON RIVER ANTHOLOGY: ELSA WERTMAN by EDGAR LEE MASTERS AFTERNOON ON A HILL by EDNA ST. VINCENT MILLAY THE NYMPH'S REPLY TO THE SHEPHERD by WALTER RALEIGH THE MARSEILLAISE by CLAUDE JOSEPH ROUGET DE LISLE HAVE YOU PLANTED A TREE? by HENRY ABBEY A SONNET WRITTEN BY A NYMPH IN HER OWN BLOOD by CLAUDIO ACHILLINI |