Sing thou my songs for me when I am dead! Soul of my soul, some day thou wilt awake To see the morning on the hilltops break, And the far summits flame with rosy red-- But I shall wake not, though above my head Armies should thunder; nor for Love's sweet sake, Though he the tenderest pilgrimage should make Where I am lying in my grassy bed. I shall be silent, with my song half sung; I shall be dumb, with half the story told; I shall be mute, leaving the half unsaid. Take thou the harp ere it be yet unstrung-- Wake thou the lyre ere yet its chords be cold-- Sing thou my songs, and thine, when I am dead! | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...IMITATION OF POPE: A COMPLIMENT TO THE LADIES by WILLIAM BLAKE THE GOOD SHEPHERD by FELIX LOPE DE VEGA CARPIO AT THE CARNIVAL by ANNE SPENCER LADY CLARA VERE DE VERE by ALFRED TENNYSON DOROTHY IN THE GARRET by JOHN TOWNSEND TROWBRIDGE FOR THE INAUGURATION OF A PUBLIC SCHOOL, CAMDEN, NEW JERSEY by WALT WHITMAN COMPANIONSHIP by MABEL WARREN ARNOLD |