If, passenger, thou canst but read: Stay, drop a tear for him that's dead, Henry, the brave young Lord La-ware, Minerva's and the muses' care! What could their care do 'gainst the spite Of a disease, that loved no light Of honour, nor no air of good? But crept like darkness through his blood? Offended with the dazzling flame Of virtue, got above his name? No noble furniture of parts, No love of action, and high arts, No aim at glory, or in war, Ambition to become a star, Could stop the malice of this ill, That spread his body o'er, to kill: And only, his great soul envied, Because it durst have noblier died. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...BALLAD OF THE GOODLY FERE by EZRA POUND PARRHASIUS by NATHANIEL PARKER WILLIS ON THE DEATH OF CYNTHIA'S HORSE by PHILIP AYRES INTRODUCTORY VERSES TO MARIA HACK by BERNARD BARTON POSTHUMOUS by HENRY AUGUSTIN BEERS BUSINESS IS BUSINESS by BERTON BRALEY |