WAN Sculptor, weepest thou to take the cast Of those dead lineaments that near thee lie? O, sorrowest thou, pale Painter, for the past, In painting some dead friend from memory? Weep on; beyond his object Love can last. His object lives; more cause to weep have I: My tears, no tears of love, are flowing fast, No tears of love, but tears that Love can die. I pledge her not in any cheerful cup, Nor care to sit beside her where she sits -- Ah! pity -- hint it not in human tones, But breathe it into earth and close it up With secret death for ever, in the pits Which some green Christmas crams with weary bones. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...ASOLANDO: NOW by ROBERT BROWNING OUT OF THE HILLS by IRENE ARCHER THE DAYS OF '84 by RANDOLPH BEDFORD BLACK BUTTE by PAUL SOUTHWORTH BLISS DOMINUS VINAEAE; SPIRITUS AGRICOLA by ANNA HEMPSTEAD BRANCH IN THE ROMAN FORUM by AMELIA JOSEPHINE BURR THE WIND IN THE PINES by MADISON JULIUS CAWEIN THE LEGEND OF GOOD WOMEN: 7. THE LEGEND OF PHILOMELA by GEOFFREY CHAUCER |