As sometimes in a dead man's face, To those that watch it more and more, A likeness, hardly seen before, Comes out -- to some one of his race; So, dearest, now thy brows are cold, I see thee what thou art, and know Thy likeness to the wise below, Thy kindred with the great of old. But there is more than I can see, And what I see I leave unsaid, Nor speak it, knowing Death has made His darkness beautiful with thee. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...SPOON RIVER ANTHOLOGY: ALBERT SCHIRDING by EDGAR LEE MASTERS BUCOLIC COMEDY: SPINNING SONG by EDITH SITWELL IN THE MILE END ROAD by AMY LEVY THE PERSIANS (PERSAE): XERXES DEFEATED by AESCHYLUS IN LAMPLIGHT by MARTIN DONISTHORPE ARMSTRONG THREE THINGS by JOSEPH AUSLANDER |