Take them, O Death! and bear away Whatever thou canst call thine own! Thine image, stamped upon this clay, Doth give thee that, but that alone! Take them, O Grave! and let them lie Folded upon thy narrow shelves, As garments by the soul laid by, And precious only to ourselves! Take them, O great Eternity! Our little life is but a gust That bends the branches of thy tree, And trails its blossoms in the dust! | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE SITTING by CECIL DAY LEWIS YOUNG BULLFROGS by CARL SANDBURG ON HEARING OF INTENTION .. TO PURCHASE THE POET'S FREEDOM by GEORGE MOSES HORTON OUR COUNTRY by JULIA WARD HOWE ASTROPHEL AND STELLA: 64 by PHILIP SIDNEY PLACES: 2. FULL MOON (SANTA BARBARA) by SARA TEASDALE BROWN OF OSSAWATOMIE [DECEMBER 2, 1859] by JOHN GREENLEAF WHITTIER |