Here lyes what had nor Birth, nor Shape, nor Fame; No Gentleman! no man! no-thing! no name! For Jammie ne'er grew James; and what they call More, shrunk to Smith -- and Smith's no name at all. Yet dye thou can'st not, Phantom, oddly fated: For how can no-thing be annihilated? Ex nihilo nihil fit. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...A MOTHER TO HER WAKING INFANT by JOANNA BAILLIE THE TEMPEST: PROLOGUE by JOHN DRYDEN BOSTON COMMON: 1630 by OLIVER WENDELL HOLMES THE WINDHOVER: TO CHRIST OUR LORD by GERARD MANLEY HOPKINS THE EPITAPH IN FORM OF A BALLAD by FRANCOIS VILLON |