Though I have twice been at the doors of death, And twice found shut those gates which ever mourn, This but a light'ning is, truce ta'en to breathe, For late-born sorrows augur fleet return. Amidst thy sacred cares, and courtly toils, Alexis, when thou shalt hear wandering fame Tell, Death hath triumph'd o'er my mortal spoils, And that on earth I am but a sad name; If thou e'er held me dear, by all our love, By all that bliss, those joys heaven here us gave, I conjure thee, and by the maids of Jove, To grave this short remembrance on my grave: Here Damon lies, whose songs did sometime grace The murmuring Esk: -- may roses shade the place. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...A TOWN WINDOW by JOHN DRINKWATER THE WIND AND THE MOON by GEORGE MACDONALD SUMMER'S LAST WILL AND TESTAMENT: SPRING by THOMAS NASHE THE KNIGHTS: DEMOS REJUVENATED by ARISTOPHANES ECHOES OF SPRING: 10 by MATHILDE BLIND ON A BIOGRAPHICAL DICTIONARY by EDMUND CHARLES BLUNDEN HINC LACHRIMAE; OR THE AUTHOR TO AURORA: 37 by WILLIAM BOSWORTH |