In this little Vault she lyes, Here, with all her jealousies: Quiet yet; but if ye make Any noise, they both will wake, And such spirits raise, 'twill then Trouble Death to lay agen. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE CELLO by RICHARD WATSON GILDER A TRUE HYMN [HYMNE] by GEORGE HERBERT THE PLOUGHMAN by OLIVER WENDELL HOLMES A COMPARISON OF THE LIFE OF MAN by RICHARD BARNFIELD THE ROUNDHOUSE by WILLIAM ROSE BENET |