I asked if I got sick and died, would you With my black funeral go walking too, If you'd stand close to hear them talk or pray While I'm let down in that steep bank of clay. And, No, you said, for if you saw a crew Of living idiots pressing round that new Oak coffin -- they alive, I dead beneath That board -- you'd rave and rend them with your teeth. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...TO A DEAD LOVER by LOUISE BOGAN ADAM AND HIS FATHER by KAREN SWENSON JILTED by PAUL LAURENCE DUNBAR EPITAPHS OF THE WAR, 1914-18: THE BEGINNER by RUDYARD KIPLING THE WIND AND THE MOON by GEORGE MACDONALD SONG OF A SECOND APRIL by EDNA ST. VINCENT MILLAY TO MRS. MARTHA BLOUNT (ON HER BIRTHDAY, 1723) by ALEXANDER POPE |