HERE, here, oh here Eurydice, Here was she slain; Her soul 'still'd through a vein. The gods knew less, That time, divinity, Than ev'n, ev'n these Of brutishness. Oh, could you view the melody Of ev'ry grace, And music of her face, You'd drop a tear, Seeing more harmony In her bright eye, Than now you hear. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...AN EPITAPH by WALTER JOHN DE LA MARE AFTER A VISIT by PAUL LAURENCE DUNBAR FOR 'THE WINE OF CIRCE' (BY EDWARD BURNE JONES) by DANTE GABRIEL ROSSETTI THE CHILD IN THE GARDEN by HENRY VAN DYKE EMPTYING ASHES by MAXWELL ANDERSON |