Once, with death near, I thought: What will it mean, This lying still, with no small task to hew -- The moonlight gone, the pines, the lace-trimmed blue Midsummer skies when rains have washed them clean? I thought of how we strolled through meadows green With April, gathering lilies drenched in dew; I thought of many things, but most of you, Love on our lips, and no dark fear between, A petal fallen from its flower will leave The flower scarred, its beauty incomplete, Yet with no loss of hue or perfumed breath. You I am petal of can never grieve, Knowing our love that made the hours sweet Will live beyond the sleep that men call death. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...WINGED MAN by STEPHEN VINCENT BENET IN THIS DARK HOUSE by EDWARD DAVISON ODE ON SOLITUDE (FINAL PRINTED VERSION) by ALEXANDER POPE SONGS OF NIGHT TO MORNING: 5 by GEORGE BARLOW (1847-1913) TO H. M. by FRANCIS BARNARD (20TH CENTURY) THE DOOMED OAK; IN IMITATION OF ANATOLE FRANCE by EDMUND CHARLES BLUNDEN |