With what style The final exit— Ever before harried By the silver candlesticks, The spare-bed mattress, And the packing of first editions, In the dreary progress From drab doorways— Now, as a sword from the scabbard, Away! Not a cob-web to hold To earth. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...ONCE I PASS'D THROUGH A POPULOUS CITY by WALT WHITMAN THE STORM OF WAR by JOHN GARDINER CALKINS BRAINARD A FOREIGN TONGUE by ANNA HEMPSTEAD BRANCH A STORY AT DUSK by ADA CAMBRIDGE INSIDE THE COACH by SAMUEL TAYLOR COLERIDGE |