(CHRISTIAN, DEATH) CHR. ALAS, poore Death! where is thy glorie? Where is thy famous force, thy ancient sting? DEA. Alas, poore mortall, void of storie! Go, spell, and reade how I have kill'd thy King. CHR. Poore Death! and who was hurt thereby? Thy curse, being laid on him, makes thee accurst. DEA. Let losers talk, yet thou shalt die: These arms shall crush thee. CHR. Spare not, do thy worst. I shall be one day better then before; Thou so much worse, that thou shalt be no more. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...STORIES ARE MADE OF MISTAKES by JAMES GALVIN YOUTH'S PROGENY by GEORGIA DOUGLAS JOHNSON THE STARLING; SONNET by AMY LOWELL THE RAT by EDWIN ARLINGTON ROBINSON HYBRIDS OF WAR: A MORALITY POEM: 2. CAMBODIA by KAREN SWENSON |