TREAD lightly, she is near Under the snow, Speak gently, she can hear The daisies grow. All her bright golden hair Tarnished with rust, She that was young and fair Fallen to dust. Lily-like, white as snow, She hardly knew She was a woman, so Sweetly she grew. Coffin-board, heavy stone, Lie on her breast, I vex my heart alone She is at rest. Peace, Peace, she cannot hear Lyre or sonnet, All my life's buried here, Heap earth upon it. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...MA LADY'S LIPS AM LIKE DE HONEY (NEGRO LOVE SONG) by JAMES WELDON JOHNSON WILLIE BREW'D A PECK O' MAUT by ROBERT BURNS A TRAMPWOMAN'S TRAGEDY by THOMAS HARDY MARY'S GIRLHOOD (FOR A PICTURE): 1 by DANTE GABRIEL ROSSETTI THE QUESTION by PERCY BYSSHE SHELLEY IDYLLS OF THE KING: THE LAST TOURNAMENT by ALFRED TENNYSON THE CITY DEAD-HOUSE by WALT WHITMAN |