DEATH, always cruel, Pity's foe in chief, Mother who brought forth grief, Merciless judgment and without appeal! Since thou alone hast made my heart to feel This sadness and unweal, My tongue upbraideth thee without relief. And now (for I must rid thy name of ruth) Behoves me speak the truth Touching thy cruelty and wickedness: Not that they be not known; but ne'ertheless I would give hate more stress With them that feed on love in very sooth. Out of this world thou hast driven courtesy, And virtue, dearly prized in womanhood; And out of youth's gay mood The lovely lightness is quite gone through thee. Whom now I mourn, no man shall learn from me Save by the measure of these praises given. Whoso deserves not Heaven May never hope to have her company. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...OCTAVES: 21 by EDWIN ARLINGTON ROBINSON AFTER DIVORCE; FOR NAHID SARMAD by KAREN SWENSON WERE I BUT HIS OWN WIFE by ELLEN MARY PATRICK DOWNING OLD MOTHERS by CHARLES SARSFIELD ROSS THE BELLS OF YOUTH by WILLIAM SHARP FIRST-DAY THOUGHTS by JOHN GREENLEAF WHITTIER |