Poetry Explorer- Classic Contemporary Poetry, MIMMA BELLA; IN MEMORY OF A LITTLE LIFE: SONNET, by EUGENE JACOB LEE-HAMILTON


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MIMMA BELLA; IN MEMORY OF A LITTLE LIFE: SONNET, by                     Poet's Biography
First Line: Tis march; and on the hills that stretch away
Last Line: Intone in march, as did their antique sires.
Subject(s): Death - Children; Florence, Italy; Death - Babies


'Tis March; and on the hills that stretch away
In misty furrows on the growing night
The peasants keep their old Etruscan rite,
And wave strange fires, like will-o'-wisps at play;

Chanting an incantation that shall lay
The spirits that bring drought and hail and blight,
And keeping with the sheaves of straw they light
In the green wheat all demon spite at bay.

Ah me! this spring we have no seed to shield
From life's dark possibilities of ill;
Nor look we on the hills where wave the fires;

Nor, heopefully as the tillers of the field,
Repeat the words of magic that they still
Intone in March, as did their antique sires.




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