SURE, there's a tie of bodies! and as they Dissolve, with it, to clay, Love languisheth, and memory doth rust O'ercast with that cold dust; For things thus centred, without beams or action. Nor give nor take contaction; And man is such a marigold, these fled, That shuts, and hangs the head. 2. Absents within the line conspire, and sense Things distant doth unite; Herbs sleep unto the East, and some fowls thence Watch the returns of light. But hearts are not so kind: false, short delights Tell us the world is brave, And wrap us in imaginary flights Wide of a faithful grave. Thus Lazarus was carried out of town; For 'tis our foes' chief art By distance all good objects first to drown. And then besiege the heart. But I will be my own death's-head ; and though The flatt'rer say, "I live," Because incertainties we cannot know, Be sure not to believe. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...DOMESDAY BOOK: CHARLES WARREN, THE SHERIFF by EDGAR LEE MASTERS THE LAWYERS KNOW TOO MUCH by CARL SANDBURG ARIEL'S SONG (1) [OR, DIRGE] [OR, A SEA DIRGE]. FR. THE TEMPEST by WILLIAM SHAKESPEARE THE SHOEMAKERS by JOHN GREENLEAF WHITTIER ON A SMALL DOG by EDMUND CHARLES BLUNDEN HINC LACHRIMAE; OR THE AUTHOR TO AURORA: 6 by WILLIAM BOSWORTH |