I could never be properly dead, For even alone in my grave, These songs would go on in my head, And May in my veins would rave. No grief or sorrow or pain Could bind me utterly down; I should go shout with the rain, And burst, with June, through the town. No ancient hurt of the stars, That scarred my heart at its birth, Could ever make silent in me, The songs that I sing for the earth. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...MATERNITY by GEORGIA DOUGLAS JOHNSON THE MAIDEN QUEEN: SONG by JOHN DRYDEN CONTINENT'S END by ROBINSON JEFFERS THE BONNIE BLUE FLAG by ANNIE CHAMBERS KETCHUM THE CITY IN THE SEA by EDGAR ALLAN POE THE HOUSE OF LIFE: 77. SOUL'S BEAUTY by DANTE GABRIEL ROSSETTI VERSES, SUGGESTED BY THE FUNERAL OF AN EPITAPH IN BURY CHURCH-YARD by BERNARD BARTON |