He roamed half round the world of woe, Where toil and labour never cease; Then dropped one little span below, In search of peace. And now to him mid beams and showers, All that he needs to grace his tomb, From loneliest regions, at all hours, Unsought for, come. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...APRIL'S LAMBS by WILLIAM HENRY DAVIES WINTER WIZARDRY by LAURA S. BECK SUNSET ON THE ORANGE MOUNTAINS by ADRIAN BERKOWITZ WELCOME TO EGYPT by MATHILDE BLIND SACRED FRUIT by HAZEL MCGEE BOWMAN THE JOURNEY by ANNE MILLAY BREMER |