Last night, on coughing slightly with sharp pain, There came arterial blood, and with a sigh Of absolute grief I cried in bitter vein, That drop is my death-warrant: I must die. Poor meagre life is mine, meagre and poor! Rather a piece of childhood thrown away; An adumbration faint; the overture To stifled music; year that ends in May; The sweet beginning of a tale unknown; A dream unspoken; promise unfulfilled; A morning with no noon, a rose unblown, -- All its deep rich vermilion crushed and killed I' th' bud by frost: -- Thus in false fear I cried, Forgetting that to abolish death Christ died. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...BLACK EAGLE RETURNS TO ST. JOE by EDGAR LEE MASTERS THE ARAB by CHARLES STUART CALVERLEY ON THE MEMORABLE VICTORY OF PAUL JONES by PHILIP FRENEAU IN SOME FAR DISTANT TIME by CATHERINE BRADSHAW |