When you shall sleep, my faithless one, under A monument built all of gloomy marble, And when for room and mansion you shall have Only a false hollow, a rainy cave; When the stone your timid chest oppressing, And your flanks that nonchalance makes supple, Shall keep your heart from beating and wishing, Your feet from running their adventurous course, The tomb, confidant of my infinite dream (The tomb that always understands the poet), Through the long nights when sleep is banished, Will say to you: "Of what use, courtesan, Not to have known what the dead were weeping?" -And the worm will gnaw your flesh like a remorse. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE AIM WAS SONG by ROBERT FROST THE ROAD NOT TAKEN by ROBERT FROST THE BOUGH OF NONSENSE by ROBERT RANKE GRAVES HYMNS OF THE MARSHES: THE MARSHES OF GLYNN by SIDNEY LANIER TO HENRY WADSWORTH LONGFELLOW; ON HIS BIRTHDAY, 27 FEB. 1867 by JAMES RUSSELL LOWELL HUGH SELWYN MAUBERLEY: 5 by EZRA POUND |