Of funerals, the saddest Is love's that dies unanswered. The soul has two to bury: The soul of the beloved And its own other selfhood. And a third enters, living, The funeral flame that wraps them; His wings a yoke has weighted: Him the wise lips of lovers Call in their kisses, Eros, And gods: the Resurrector. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...I COULD TAKE by HAYDEN CARRUTH ALIENS (TO YOU - EVERYWHERE! DEDICATED) by GEORGIA DOUGLAS JOHNSON BONDAGE by GEORGIA DOUGLAS JOHNSON FICTION by GEORGIA DOUGLAS JOHNSON WHERE? by GEORGIA DOUGLAS JOHNSON BRER RABBIT, YOU'S DE CUTES' OF 'EM ALL by JAMES WELDON JOHNSON |