If, passenger, thou canst but read: Stay, drop a tear for him that's dead, Henry, the brave young Lord La-ware, Minerva's and the muses' care! What could their care do 'gainst the spite Of a disease, that loved no light Of honour, nor no air of good? But crept like darkness through his blood? Offended with the dazzling flame Of virtue, got above his name? No noble furniture of parts, No love of action, and high arts, No aim at glory, or in war, Ambition to become a star, Could stop the malice of this ill, That spread his body o'er, to kill: And only, his great soul envied, Because it durst have noblier died. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...VERSES SUPPOSED TO BE WRITTEN BY ALEXANDER SELKIRK by WILLIAM COWPER THE LIGHT OF ASIA by EDWIN ARNOLD THE LAY OF THE OLD WOMAN CLOTHED IN GREY; A LEGEND OF DOVER by RICHARD HARRIS BARHAM CHEDDAR PINKS by ROBERT SEYMOUR BRIDGES THE LADY TO HER GUITAR by EMILY JANE BRONTE A WASTED MORNING by ABBIE FARWELL BROWN |