We dreamers thought that we had died too soon -- So when they buried us, we rose again To dive from pensive peaks beyond the moon, And swim upon the crest of clouds, and then We painted lovely sunsets in our flight -- Across the sky with sweeping strokes we fled -- Our failing breath we left to perfume night -- Our restless souls still drove us on -- though dead. Wraith-like, our specters streaked the Milky-Way. We raced a shooting star across the sky; But fled before the fevered pulse of day -- Content at last to rest and sleep and die! (They wrote "Disturb not those who died in vain" -- We smile, we dead, and whisper with the rain). | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE TURNSTILE by WILLIAM BARNES THE DEIL'S AWA WI' TH' EXCISEMAN by ROBERT BURNS SETTING SAIL by EMILY DICKINSON THE SONNET by RICHARD WATSON GILDER LITTLE JERRY, THE MILLER by JOHN GODFREY SAXE MY MOTHER by WILLIAM BELL SCOTT INDEPENDENCE DAY by ROYALL TYLER |