WE are alone: the dead who sleeping lie, And I who mow the grass above their head. Since I still move, I say: "The dead—and I," But had I thought of what it is to die, And what to live, I might have simply said, "We dead." | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...DESIRE by GEORGIA DOUGLAS JOHNSON SONG TO THE MEN OF ENGLAND by THOMAS CAMPBELL EPIGRAM: A LAME BEGGAR by JOHN DONNE VERSES ON SEEING THE SPEAKER ASLEEP IN HIS CHAIR by WINTHROP MACKWORTH PRAED |