Ask not to know this man. If fame should speak His name in any metal, it would break. Two letters were enough the plague to tear Out of his grave, and poison every ear. A parcel of court-dirt, a heap, and mass Of all vice hurled together, there he was, Proud, false, and treacherous, vindictive, all That thought can add, unthankful, the lay-stall Of putrid flesh alive! Of blood, the sink! And so I leave to stir him, lest he stink. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...BACCHUS by RALPH WALDO EMERSON NO COMING TO GOD WITHOUT CHRIST by ROBERT HERRICK FOR THE HOLY FAMILY, BY MICHELANGELO (IN THE NATIONAL GALLERY) by DANTE GABRIEL ROSSETTI ASTROPHEL AND STELLA: 83 by PHILIP SIDNEY LITTLE BELL by THOMAS WESTWOOD A SUMMER NIGHT by MATTHEW ARNOLD THE STEAM-ENGINE: CANTO 6. ON THE CORK PACKET, 1837 by T. BAKER IF ONLY THOU ART TRUE by GEORGE BARLOW (1847-1913) COMMENDATORY VERSES TO WILLIAM BROWNE'S 'BRITANNIA'S PASTORALS' by WILLIAM BASSE |