No sculptured marble here, nor pompous lay, "No storied urn nor animated bust;" This simple stone directs pale Scotia's way, To pour her sorrows o'er the Poet's dust. She mourns, sweet tuneful youth, thy hapless fate; Tho' all the powers of song thy fancy fired, Yet Luxury and Wealth lay by in state, And, thankless, starv'd what they so much admired. This tribute, with a tear, now gives A brother Bard -- he can no more bestow: But dear to fame thy Song immortal lives, A nobler monument than Art can shew. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...DOMESTIC SONG by DAVID IGNATOW AT THE TAVERN by PAUL LAURENCE DUNBAR WHAT THE THRUSH SAID by JOHN KEATS A FAREWELL TO TOBACCO by CHARLES LAMB MY MADONNA by ROBERT WILLIAM SERVICE FOR THOSE AT SEA; HYMN by WILLIAM WHITING THE LETTER; EDWARD ROWLAND SILL, DIED FEBRUARY 27, 1887 by THOMAS BAILEY ALDRICH ON THE DISCOVERIES OF CAPTAIN LEWIS [JANUARY 14, 1807] by JOEL BARLOW |