THOUGH short her strain nor sung with mighty boast, Yet there the power of song had dwelling-room; So lives her name for ever, nor lies lost Beneath the shadow of the wings of gloom, While bards of after days, in countless host, Slumber and fade forgotten in the tomb. Better the swan's brief note than thousand cries Of rooks in springtime blown about the skies. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...TIRED by GEORGIA DOUGLAS JOHNSON GHOSTS OF THE OLD YEAR by JAMES WELDON JOHNSON VOLUPTAS by JAMES WELDON JOHNSON CHAMBER MUSIC: 11 by JAMES JOYCE DOMESDAY BOOK: ELENOR MURRAY by EDGAR LEE MASTERS SPOON RIVER ANTHOLOGY: OSCAR HUMMEL by EDGAR LEE MASTERS HOMAGE TO SEXTUS PROPERTIUS: 4. DIFFERENCE OF OPINION WITH LYGDAMUS by EZRA POUND |