Honest Iago. When his breath was fled Doubtless these words were carven at his head. Such lying epitaphs are like a rose That in unlovely earth takes root and grows. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE MOTHER by ROBERT WILLIAM SERVICE PEARLS OF THE FAITH: 9. AL-HATHIM by EDWIN ARNOLD THE FLOWERING TREE by ROBERT SEYMOUR BRIDGES TO EVENING by SAMUEL EGERTON BRYDGES THE WANDERER: 5. IN HOLLAND: BLUEBEARD by EDWARD ROBERT BULWER-LYTTON THE BOHEMIANS OF BOSTON AND THEIR WAYS; A MEMORY OF THE JACOBEAN CRAZE by FRANK GELETT BURGESS |