WHEN in your sober mood my body have ye laid In sight and sound of things beloved, woodland and stream, And the green turf has hidden the poor bones ye deem No more a close companion with those rhymes we made; Then, if some bird should pipe, or breezes stir the glade, Thinking them for the while my voice, so let them seem A fading message from the misty shores of dream, Or wheresoever, following Death, my feet have strayed. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...FAIRIES' SONG by THOMAS RANDOLPH A LULLABY by THOMALLY HOLBECH ANDERSON THE TWO FIRES by JOSEPH BEAUMONT CHRISTMAS MORNING by RICHARD BECK THE TRIUMPH OF LOVE by WILLIAM ROSE BENET A NEW PILGRIMAGE: 18 by WILFRID SCAWEN BLUNT |