TWO kinds there are: the one theatric, bold -- A murder, maybe, horrible to see, Lives lost by fire or flood, and bodies cold That speak some tale of awful agony; The other, mumming by a milder name: A human soul that as the days go by Sinks deeper down into some pit of shame, Yet knows the stars shine silvery and high. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THEN AND NOW by CECIL DAY LEWIS INSCRIPTIONS: 1. FOR A GROTTO by MARK AKENSIDE CATARINA TO CAMOENS by ELIZABETH BARRETT BROWNING SEA GODS: 2 by HILDA DOOLITTLE TO THE REPUBLIC by JAMES GALVIN |