ALL flesh is grass, and so are feathers too: Finches must die, as well as I and you. Beneath a damask rose, in good old age, Here lies the tenant of a noble cage. For forty moons he charmed his lady's ear, And piped obedient oft as she drew near, Though now stretched out upon a clay-cold bier. But when the last shrill flageolet shall sound, And raise all dickybirds from holy ground, His little corpse again its wings shall plume, And sing eternally the self-same tune, From everlasting night to everlasting noon. @3On the Other Bullfinch, Buried in the Same Place@1 Beneath the same bush rests his brother— What serves for one will serve for t' other. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...SPOON RIVER ANTHOLOGY: DAVIS MATLOCK by EDGAR LEE MASTERS AFTER TU FU (THEY SAY YOU'RE STAYING IN A MOUNTAIN TEMPLE) by MARVIN BELL ONE FAVORED ACORN by ROBERT FROST BENEDICTION by GEORGIA DOUGLAS JOHNSON TO MY CLASS: ON CERTAIN FRUITS AND FLOWERS SENT ... SICKNESS by SIDNEY LANIER ON A TUFT OF GRASS by EMMA LAZARUS A FOOL, A FOUL THING, A DISTRESSFUL LUNATIC by MARIANNE MOORE |