No doubt this active will, So bravely steeped in sun, This will has vanquished Death And foiled oblivion. But this indifferent clay, This fine experienced hand, So quiet, and these thoughts That all unfinished stand, Feel death as though it were A shadowy caress; And win and wear a frail Archaic wistfulness. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...SONNET: 94 by WILLIAM SHAKESPEARE LOVE AND LIFE. A SONG by JOHN WILMOT THE SECOND COMING by WILLIAM BUTLER YEATS A SONNET. OF LOVE by PHILIP AYRES DIRGE by ANNA LETITIA BARBAULD THE IMPROVISATORE: THE INDUCTION TO THE SECOND FYTTE by THOMAS LOVELL BEDDOES |