HERE sleeps the Bard who knew so well All the sweet windings of Apollo's shell; Whether its music rolled like torrents near, Or died, like distant streamlets , on the ear. Sleep, sleep, mute bard; alike unheeded now The storm and zephyr sweep thy lifeless brow; That storm, whose rush is like thy martial lay; That breeze which, like thy love - song; dies away! | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...POOR POLL by ROBERT SEYMOUR BRIDGES THE LISTENERS by WALTER JOHN DE LA MARE TO THE REPUBLIC by JAMES GALVIN SONNET TO ALISA ROCK by JOHN KEATS THE SHEPHEARDES CALENDER: DECEMBER by EDMUND SPENSER FEATHERS ON THE GRASS by LAURA FRANCES ALEXANDER |