I ask you: Has the Singer sung The drear quintessence of the Song? John Ford knew more than I of death, John Ford to death has passed along. I ask you: Has the Singer said Whereof his greatness is not dust? Marlowe went muttering to death When he had done with song and lust. And so I speak no other word, Nor ask where to go the jaunty throng, For laughter frames the lips of death - Death frames the Singer and the Song. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...ON GOING UNNOTICED by ROBERT FROST YOUTH AND ART by ROBERT BROWNING SONNET: 148 by WILLIAM SHAKESPEARE LAMENT OF THE IRISH EMIGRANT by HELEN SELINA SHERIDAN EARLY DEATH AND FAME by MATTHEW ARNOLD THE DEATH OF HAMPDEN by PAKENHAM THOMAS BEATTY |