REMEMBER not my eyes when I am dead, Nor shining hair, nor slender body's grace; For though I go in gleaming silk and lace And bind a strand of gold about my head It is not thus that you must think of me,— Not as a picture in a shrinéd place, Immortal for the beauty of my face That moves you yet, though I have ceased to be. Remember rather one who longed to break From cold perfection learned one time too well;— Whose thoughts alone had found the way to take Flight with the wind;—for whom all storms went past Only in dreams;—till one time it befell Death set her free, and gave her life at last. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...SMALL COUNTRIES by JAMES GALVIN SPOON RIVER ANTHOLOGY: SHACK DYE by EDGAR LEE MASTERS RAHEL TO VARNHAGEN by EDWIN ARLINGTON ROBINSON BUCOLIC COMEDY: FLEECING TIME by EDITH SITWELL DINOSAUR NATIONAL by KAREN SWENSON NO EXEMPTION FOR TOURISTS by KAREN SWENSON THE MAD WOMAN'S SONG by KAREN SWENSON |