This is the end of him, here he lies: The dust in his throat, the worm in his eyes, The mould in his mouth, the turf on his breast; This is the end of him, this is best. He will never lie on his couch awake, Wide-eyed, tearless, till dim daybreak. Never again will he smile and smile When his heart is breaking all the while. He will never stretch out his hands in vain Groping and groping -- never again. Never ask for bread, get a stone instead, Never pretend that the stone is bread; Nor sway and sway 'twixt the false and true, Weighing and noting the long hours through. Never ache and ache with the choked-up sighs; This is the end of him, here he lies. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...AFTERNOON ON A HILL by EDNA ST. VINCENT MILLAY EROS TURANNOS by EDWIN ARLINGTON ROBINSON THE HOUSE OF LIFE: 36. LIFE-IN-LOVE by DANTE GABRIEL ROSSETTI THE HOUSE OF LIFE: 91. LOST ON BOTH SIDES by DANTE GABRIEL ROSSETTI IDYLLS OF THE KING: GARETH AND LYNETTE by ALFRED TENNYSON |