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Classic and Contemporary Poetry
NOW, by MARY BARKER (CARTER) DODGE Poet's Biography First Line: Upon my bier no garlands lay Last Line: That only death can earn! | |||
UPON my bier no garlands lay, To shrivel at death's icy touch; Pansies for thought bequeathed to-day, Were worth a thousand such! Rare flowers too often serve the pride Which grants them -- naught beside. No lavish tears that laggard be, Pour vainly on my pulseless clay; A single drop of sympathy Were richer boon to-day; To-day I need it -- but, thank God, No need is in the sod. Yield now the sign, or let me go Unlaurelled into waiting space; Not taunted by a hollow show Of friendship's tardy grace; Not mocked by fruits that would not fall Save as an idle pall. Fair blossoms with love's dewdrops wet, And fondly laid in folded hands, Must hold the grateful spirit yet While wandering in strange lands; But wounded souls the meed must spurn That only Death can earn! | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...A NOCTURNAL UPON ST. LUCY'S DAY, BEING THE SHORTEST DAY by JOHN DONNE TO SIR GODFREY KNELLER by JOHN DRYDEN RECESSIONAL by RUDYARD KIPLING TO LADY B- W-, PRESENTING THE AUTHOR WITH A MOIETY OF A LOTTERY TICKET by JOHN BYROM |
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