When all my words were said, When all my songs were sung, I thought to pass among The unforgotten dead. A Queen of ruth to reign With her, who gathereth tears From all the lands and years, The Lesbian maid of pain; That lovers, when they wove The double myrtle-wreath, Should sigh with mingled breath Beneath the wings of Love: 'How piteous were her wrongs, Her words were falling dew, All pleasant verse she knew, But not the Song of songs. Yet not, O Love, that you Have kissed my forehead, I Have sung indeed, can die, And be forgotten too. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...CLAY BISON IN A CAVE by CLARENCE MAJOR THE POET'S TESTAMENT by GEORGE SANTAYANA THE DREARY CHANGE by WALTER SCOTT IMMORTALIA NE SPERES by ALCAEUS OF MYTILENE MORE WALKS by RICHARD HARRIS BARHAM TO SIR THOS. BARLOW, P.R.C.P. by ROBERT SEYMOUR BRIDGES |