UNWEPT, unburied, traveller, we lie here Three myriad men, on this Thessalian hill, A grief to Macedon. Fast runs a deer, But Philip, that brave soul, ran quicker still. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE WANTS OF MAN by JOHN QUINCY ADAMS AT CASTERBRIDGE FAIR: 3. AFTER THE CLUB-DANCE by THOMAS HARDY THE GENERAL by SIEGFRIED SASSOON ODE IN MEMORY OF THE AMERICAN VOLUNTEERS FALLEN FOR FRANCE by ALAN SEEGER TOUJOURS AMOUR by EDMUND CLARENCE STEDMAN DIRGE FOR TWO VETERANS by WALT WHITMAN THE WANDERER: 3. IN ENGLAND: BABYLONIA by EDWARD ROBERT BULWER-LYTTON |