The Wain upon the northern steep Descends and lifts away. Oh I will sit me down and weep For bones in Africa. For pay and medals, name and rank, Things that he has not found, He hove the Cross to heaven and sank The pole-star underground. And now he does not even see Signs of the nadir roll At night over the ground where he Is buried with the pole. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...NOT OUR GOOD LUCK by ROBINSON JEFFERS BE STRONG by MALTBIE DAVENPORT BABCOCK TO A LITTLE INVISIBLE BEING WHO IS EXPECTED SOON TO BECOME VISIBLE by ANNA LETITIA BARBAULD MY MOTHER by FLORENCE R. ANDREWS THE BOAST OF THE TIDES by WILLIAM ROSE BENET |