I am dead and in my grave. Let me alone. The seeping of rains down through me, And the reaching of roots down after me, And the skimming of leaves above me, are enough. Let me alone. You have had @3your@1 will of me, So wherefore, now, Should your questions creep here to me, And the roots of your doubt reach at me, And your thoughts restively skim and shudder above me? Let me alone. Would you rifle the grave too? Go away. I have nothing left for your taking. My hair is not gold, but dust now. My eyes are not stars, but stillness. My flesh is not beauty aflame, but very cool. Let me alone. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...CHAMBER MUSIC: 10 by JAMES JOYCE PORTRAIT OF ONE DEAD by CONRAD AIKEN VARIATIONS: 17 by CONRAD AIKEN THE BIRDS DO THUS by ROBERT FROST GOOD-BYE by GEORGIA DOUGLAS JOHNSON SPOON RIVER ANTHOLOGY: ALFRED MOIR by EDGAR LEE MASTERS |