He does not die that can bequeathe Some influence to the land he knows, Or dares, persistent, interwreathe Love permanent with the wild hedgerows; He does not die, but still remains Substantiate with his darling plains. The spring's superb adventure calls His dust athwart the woods to flame; His boundary river's secret falls Perpetuate and repeat his name. He rides his loud October sky: He does not die. He does not die. The beeches know the accustomed head Which loved them, and a peopled air Beneath their benediction spread Comforts the silence everywhere; For native ghosts return and these Perfect the mystery in the trees. So, therefore, though myself be crosst The shuddering of that dreadful day When friend and fire and home are lost, And even children drawn away -- The passer-by shall hear me still A boy that sings on Duncton Hill. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE FLAMING HEART by RICHARD CRASHAW THE CHOIRMASTER'S BURIAL by THOMAS HARDY LALLA ROOKH: PARADISE AND THE PERI by THOMAS MOORE THE ARGONAUTS (ARGONATUICA): AMOR OMNIPOTENS by APOLLONIUS RHODIUS ON A JUNIPER-TREE, CUT DOWN TO MAKE BUSKS by APHRA BEHN HINC LACHRIMAE; OR THE AUTHOR TO AURORA: 10 by WILLIAM BOSWORTH SONNETS FROM THE PORTUGUESE: 33 by ELIZABETH BARRETT BROWNING |