THAT awful name which oft inspires Impatient hopes, and fond desires, Can to another pain impart, And thrill with fear the shuddering heart. This mystic word is often read O'er the still chambers of the dead. Say, what contains the breathless clay, When the fleet soul is wing'd away? Those marble monuments proclaim My little wily wanton's name. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE JOY OF THE HILLS by EDWIN MARKHAM VICTOR RAFOLSKI ON ART by EDGAR LEE MASTERS THE ENGLISH GRAVEYARD IN MALACCA by KAREN SWENSON SANDALPHON by HENRY WADSWORTH LONGFELLOW SONNET PREFIXED TO 'NENNIO, OR A TREATISE OF NOBILITY' by EDMUND SPENSER A COWBOY ALONE WITH HIS CONSCIENCE by JAMES BARTON ADAMS |