'RATHER be dead than praised,' he said, That hero, like a hero dead, In this slack-sinewed age endued With more than antique fortitude! 'Rather be dead than praised!' Shall we, Who loved thee, now that Death sets free Thine eager soul, with word and line Profane that empty house of thine? Nay, -- let us hold, be mute. Our pain Will not be less that we refrain; And this our silence shall but be A larger monument to thee. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...SONNET: SILENCE by THOMAS HOOD MY BED IS A BOAT by ROBERT LOUIS STEVENSON COME UP FROM THE FIELDS FATHER by WALT WHITMAN A BLESSING FOR THE BLESSED by LAWRENCE ALMA-TADEMA ASOLANDO: BAD DREAMS by ROBERT BROWNING THE HERETIC'S TRAGEDY by ROBERT BROWNING |