Poetry Explorer- Classic Contemporary Poetry, CORTEGE FOR ROSENBLOOM, by WALLACE STEVENS


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Classic and Contemporary Poetry

CORTEGE FOR ROSENBLOOM, by                 Poet Analysis     Poet's Biography
First Line: Now, the wry rosenbloom is dead
Last Line: Rosenbloom is dead.
Subject(s): Death; Dead, The


Now the wry Rosenbloom is dead
Now the wry Rosenbloom is dead
And his finical carriers tread,
And his finical carriers tread,
On a hundred legs, the tread
On a hundred legs, the tread
Of the dead.
Of the dead.
Rosenbloom is dead.
They carry the wizened one
Rosenbloom is dead.
Of the color of horn

They carry the wizened one
To the sullen hill,
Treading a tread
Of the color of horn
To the sullen hill,
In unison for the dead.
Rosenbloom is dead.
Treading a tread
The tread of the carriers does not halt
In unison for the dead.

On the hill, but turns
Up the sky.
Rosenbloom is dead.
They are bearing his body into the sky.
The tread of the carriers does not halt
It is the infants of misanthropes
On the hill, but turns
And the infants of nothingness
Up the sky.
They are bearing his body into the sky.
That tread

The wooden ascents
It is the infants of misanthropes
Of the ascending of the dead.
And the infants of nothingness
It is turbans they wear
That tread
And boots of fur
The wooden ascents
As they tread the boards
Of the ascending of the dead.
In a region of frost, .
Viewing the frost.

It is turbans they wear
To a chirr of gongs
And boots of fur
And a chitter of cries
As they tread the boards
And the heavy thrum
In a region of frost,
Of the endless tread
Viewing the frost.
That they tread.
To a jabber of doom

To a chirr of gongs
And a jumble of words
And a chitter of cries
Of the intense poem
Of the strictest prose
And the heavy thrum
Of Rosenbloom.
Of the endless tread
And they bury him there,
That they tread.
Body and soul,

To a jabber of doom
In a place in the sky.
The lamentable tread!
And a jumble of words
Rosenbloom is dead
Of the intense poem

Of the strictest prose
Of Rosenbloom.

And they bury him there,
Body and soul,
In a place in the sky.
The lamentable tread!
Rosenbloom is dead.





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