Here's an end to my art! I must die and I know it, With battle murder at my heart -- Sad death for a poet! Oh my songs never sung, And my plays to darkness blown! I am still so young, so young, And life was my own. Some bad fairy stole The baby I nursed: Was this my pretty little soul, This changeling accursed? To fight and kill is wrong -- To stay at home wronger: Oh soul, little play and song, I may father no longer! | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...SPOON RIVER ANTHOLOGY: COONEY POTTER by EDGAR LEE MASTERS FLOWERS by HENRY WADSWORTH LONGFELLOW SONNET: DANTE (1) by MICHELANGELO BUONARROTI ALASTOR; OR, THE SPIRIT OF SOLITUDE by PERCY BYSSHE SHELLEY IN MEMORIAM A.H.H.: 78 by ALFRED TENNYSON THE SHAVEN BEAUTY by YUSUF IBN HARUN AL-RAMADI ON KEAN'S HAMLET by WASHINGTON ALLSTON |