Gone are the three, those sisters rare With wonder-lips and eyes ashine. One was wise and one was fair, And one was mine. Ye mourners, weave for the sleeping hair Of only two, your ivy vine. For one was wise and one was fair, But one was mine. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...A DEAD HARVEST (IN KENSINGTON GARDENS) by ALICE MEYNELL FIRELIGHT by EDWIN ARLINGTON ROBINSON TO HIS WORSHIPFULL WEL-WILLER, MAISTER EDWARD LEIGH by RICHARD BARNFIELD THE STEALING OF THE MARE; AN ARABIC EPIC OF THE TENTH CENTURY by WILFRID SCAWEN BLUNT |