Classic and Contemporary Poetry
DEATH (IN MEMORIAM MAGGIE MEAGHER), by GEORGE FREDERICK CAMERON Poet's Biography First Line: Dear friend, I know this world is kin Last Line: And with our heartsbehold them there! Subject(s): Death; Dead, The | ||||||||
Dear friend, I know this world is kin, And all of hate is but a breath: We all are friends, made perfect in Our near relationship by death. And so, although it was not mine To meet thee in thy walk below, Or know of thee till feet of thine Were on the hills no man can know; For friendship's sake I fain would bring A flower, or two, to thee to prove That memory lives, that death's sharp sting Hath still an antidote in love. Devoured by his desire of her The king, who ever loved her best, Hath stilled the billowing of her breast, Hath kissed her so no pulse doth stir, But all of her doth lie at rest. Then, knowing she may never now Wish any else, he takes his leave, And little recks how they may grieve Who see the splendor of her brow Gleam ghastly through the gathering eve; Who see her lying pale, supine, With wild red roses twined with fair About her throat, and in her hair, And on her bosom,all divine If but a little life were there. Nor heeds he aught the sunless glooms And fair forms folded from the light In close graves crowded far from sight In lone lands dedicate to tombs And scarce to starbeams known at night; But goes his way; and as he goes Leaves that we hold as sorrow here, The pain of parting and the tear, The broken lily and the rose Down fallen with the fallen year. Cold king, most lone and absolute! What maid would be desired of thee? From thy embrace who would not flee? What though a monarch, being mute In love of thine what love could be? Can any good be silent so? Be dumb, and do its work and pass Swift as an image in a glass? Ah, all of good that we can know Thus comes to us, and leaves, alas! While we, who have no key to ope Death's cabinet of mysteries, Can only vainly strain our eyes, And hold to heaven and that high hope That death is good in any guise! And if but slight to thee appear The tribute brought, now that thine eyes May view through all the eternal year The fairer flowers of Paradise, If dim and all unworthy look The offering, yet remember well We do not sleep by Eden's brook, Or dream on beds of Asphodel: So only bring the flowers that bloom Beside us, fresh enough and fair; Enough to wither on thy tomb: And with our heartsbehold them there! | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...A FRIEND KILLED IN THE WAR by ANTHONY HECHT FOR JAMES MERRILL: AN ADIEU by ANTHONY HECHT TARANTULA: OR THE DANCE OF DEATH by ANTHONY HECHT CHAMPS D?ÇÖHONNEUR by ERNEST HEMINGWAY NOTE TO REALITY by TONY HOAGLAND IN AFTER DAYS by GEORGE FREDERICK CAMERON |
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