He is not dead, this friend Who talked with me but yesterday Of life and love and all the things That men in exile cherish most And may not have; who stood So cleanly tall beside my cot And spoke of things we both had seen, Of friends we both had known, Of books, of songs, of poetry We both knew well and loved. In all who saw his smile, In all who heard his voice, In all who knew him for the man he was His manhood lives and will live on. Clear as the noon-day sun he lights the way For those who come behind And, smiling as of old, sends back the word: He is not dead. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...I'VE NOTHING TO OFFER by DAVID IGNATOW A PATCH OF OLD SNOW by ROBERT FROST SEA UNICORNS AND LAND UNICORNS by MARIANNE MOORE THE ORPHAN BOY'S TALE by AMELIA OPIE THE CLOUD by PERCY BYSSHE SHELLEY STARRY NIGHT by KENNETH SLADE ALLING IN VINCULIS; SONNETS WRITTEN IN AN IRISH PRISON: HOW SHALL I BUILD by WILFRID SCAWEN BLUNT TAKE YOUR CHOICE: NICHOLAS VACHEL LINDSAY WOULD SPEAK ... THIS MANNER by BERTON BRALEY |