POET, you write me fair who am fair today, And make me immortally fair to suit your whim; For your word, when the breath dies out, by a secret way Makes sport of Death, forever eluding him. Have pity, and write me wise who am never wise! I would wear magnificence like a glittering dress. So clothed in the folds of your sweet unperishing lies, No later one shall discover my littleness. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...CONTRA MORTEM: THE WOMAN by HAYDEN CARRUTH AFTER WRITING A POEM by DAVID IGNATOW DESTINY by GEORGIA DOUGLAS JOHNSON FRAGMENT by JAMES WELDON JOHNSON ON HUNTINGDON'S 'MIRANDA' by SIDNEY LANIER |