Nor flowers, nor honeyed words can bring him back Since he is dead, Whate'er his merits may have been, or faults Untold or said, For his soul hath passed on to meet His God. Dost thou not know Thou too shalt follow in a few more days For all must go! And as the long procession stumbles on, 'Tis well to think For even now thy faltering footsteps may Approach the brink; Then live each day as if it were the last Whilst here awhile, That when the morning breaks for thee beyond Thou too shalt smile. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE SEASONS by JAMES WELDON JOHNSON APRIL'S LAMBS by WILLIAM HENRY DAVIES DEATH OF STONEWALL JACKSON by HENRY LYNDEN FLASH INVERSNAID by GERARD MANLEY HOPKINS SONNET: 107 by WILLIAM SHAKESPEARE THE GODODDIN: CONAN by ANEIRIN THE LOVE SONNETS OF PROTEUS: 114. A LATER DEDICATION by WILFRID SCAWEN BLUNT |