Great Nature clothes the soul, which is but thin, With fleshly garments, which the Fates do spin, And when these garments are grown old and bare, With sickness torn, Death takes them off with care, And folds them up in peace and quiet rest, And lays them safe within an earthly chest: Then scours them well and makes them sweet and clean, Fit for the soul to wear those clothes again. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...SPOON RIVER ANTHOLOGY: AMI GREEN by EDGAR LEE MASTERS NIGHT AND DAY: 2 by ISAAC ROSENBERG ON THE BIRTH OF A CHILD by LOUIS UNTERMEYER SHE WALKS IN BEAUTY by GEORGE GORDON BYRON THE HOUSE OF LIFE: 86. LOST DAYS by DANTE GABRIEL ROSSETTI A FARM PICTURE by WALT WHITMAN THE ARGONAUTS (ARGONATUICA): MEDEA'S HESITATION by APOLLONIUS RHODIUS |