DEAR little Dorothy, she is no more! I have wandered world-wide from shore to shore, I have seen as great beauties as ever were wed; But none can console me for Dorothy dead. Dear little Dorothy! How strange it seems That her face is less real than the faces of dreams; That the love which kept true, and the lips which so spoke, Are more lost than my heart, which died not when it broke! | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE GARDEN BY MOONLIGHT by AMY LOWELL SPOON RIVER ANTHOLOGY: JOHN CABANIS by EDGAR LEE MASTERS |