UNDERNEATH this stone there lies More of beauty than are eyes; Or to read that she is gone, Or alive to gaze upon. She in so much fairness clad, To each grace a virtue had; All her goodness cannot be Cut in marble. Memory Would be useless, ere we tell In a stone her worth. Farewell! | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...TO STATECRAFT EMBALMED by MARIANNE MOORE UNREALITY by MERCEDES DE ACOSTA THE LAST MAN: MIDNIGHT HYMN by THOMAS LOVELL BEDDOES APPREHENSION by HARRY RANDOLPH BLYTHE A NORTHERN VIGIL by BLISS CARMAN |