See now, if thou have any heed For thine own soul, now hence make speed! Here in this waste of briar and thorn Sojourns one hungry and forlorn, Self-murdered, unassoiled, unshriven, Haunting these shades twixt Earth and Heaven. O get thee gone; no biding make; Lest the Unsleeping find the Wake! | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...SUMMER'S LAST WILL AND TESTAMENT: AUTUMN by THOMAS NASHE ASTROPHEL AND STELLA: 74 by PHILIP SIDNEY THE GLOW-WORM by VINCENT BOURNE EPIGRAM ON ONE BORN BLIND, AND SO DEAD by WILLIAM BROWNE (1591-1643) THE WANDERER: 1. IN ITALY: THE LAST MESSAGE by EDWARD ROBERT BULWER-LYTTON THE HOME-RETURNING by RICHARD EUGENE BURTON A LETTER TO A LADY; HER DESIRING AUTHOR TO POLISH POEMS OF BISHOP KEN by JOHN BYROM |