To-day, the fight: my end is very soon, And sealed the warrant limiting my hours: I knew it walking yesterday at noon Down a deserted garden full of flowers. ... Carelessly sang, pinned roses on my breast, Reached for a cherry-bunch -- and then, then, Death Blew through the garden from the North and East And blilghted every beauty with chill breath. I looked, and ah, my wraith before me stood, His head all battered in by violent blows: The fruit between my lips to clotted blood Was transubstantiate, and the pale rose Smelt sickly, till it seemed through a swift tear-flood That dead men blossomed in the garden-close. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...FRANCIS II, KING OF NAPLES; SONNET by AMY LOWELL LOVE by WILLIAM CARLOS WILLIAMS MEDITATIONS OF A HINDU [OR, HINDOO] PRINCE [AND SKEPTIC] by ALFRED COMYNS LYALL AN ODE IN TIME OF HESITATION by WILLIAM VAUGHN MOODY THE TRAIL OF NINETY-EIGHT by ROBERT WILLIAM SERVICE |