Classic and Contemporary Poetry
WHAT A DEAD MAN SAID, by JAMES WHITCOMB RILEY Poet Analysis Poet's Biography First Line: Hear what a dead man said to me Last Line: That the voice of the dead man spoke to me. Alternate Author Name(s): Johnson Of Boone, Benj. F. Subject(s): Corpses; Flowers; Roses; Secrets; Cadavers | ||||||||
HEAR what a dead man said to me. His lips moved not, and the eyelids lay Shut as the leaves of a white rose may Ere the wan bud blooms out perfectly; And the lifeless hands they were stiffly crossed As they always cross them over the breast When the soul goes nude and the corpse is dressed; And over the form, in its long sleep lost, From forehead down to the pointed feet That peaked the foot of the winding-sheet, Pallid patience and perfect rest. -- It was the voice of a dream, may be, But it seemed that the dead man said to me: "I, indeed, am the man that died Yesternight -- and you weep for this; But, lo, I am with you, side by side, As we have walked when the summer sun Made the smiles of our faces one, And touched our lips with the same warm kiss. Do not doubt that I tell you true -- I am the man you once called friend, And caught my hand when I came to you, And loosed it only because the end Of the path I walked of a sudden stopped -- And a dead man's hand must needs be dropped -- And I -- though it's strange to think so now -- I have wept, as you weep for me, And pressed hot palms to my aching brow And moaned through the long night ceaselessly. Yet have I live to forget my pain, As you will live to be glad again -- Though never so glad as this hour am I, Tasting a rapture of delight Vast as the heavens are infinite, And dear as the hour I came to die. Living and loving, I dreamed my cup Brimmed sometimes, and with marvelings I have lifted and tipped it up And drunk to the dregs of all sweet things. Living, 'twas but a dream of bliss -- Now I realize all it is; And now my only shadow of grief Is that I may not give relief Unto those living and dreaming on, And woo them graveward, as I have gone, And show death's loveliness, -- for they Shudder and shrink as they walk this way, Never dreaming that all they dread Is their purest delight when dead." Thus it was, or it seemed to be, That the voice of the dead man spoke to me. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE CORPSES (1) by LYNN EMANUEL LENINGRAD CEMETERY, WINTER OF 1941 by SHARON OLDS TWO VIEWS OF A CADAVER ROOM: 2 by SYLVIA PLATH THE SHAPE OF THE CORONER by WALLACE STEVENS A MONUMENT by ALBERT GOLDBARTH THE BOOK OF THE DEAD MAN (#1): 2. MORE ABOUT THE DEAD MAN by MARVIN BELL A BOY'S MOTHER by JAMES WHITCOMB RILEY |
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