HE walked in glory on the hills; We dalesmen envied from afar The heights and rose-lit pinnacles Which placed him nigh the evening star. Upon the peaks they found him dead; And now we wonder if he sighed For our low grass beneath his head, For our rude huts, before he died. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE ANGEL IN THE HOUSE: BOOK 2. CANTO 8. PRELUDE: THE KISS by COVENTRY KERSEY DIGHTON PATMORE DISARMAMENT by JOHN GREENLEAF WHITTIER A SPIRITUAL AND WELL-ORDERED MIND by HENRY ALFORD BLIND FOLK by CHARLES BAUDELAIRE A NEW PILGRIMAGE: 35 by WILFRID SCAWEN BLUNT |