ONE stab could not fierce Cato's life untie; Only his hand of all that wound did die. Deeper his fingers tear to make a way Open, through which his mighty soul might stray. Fortune made this delay to let us know That Cato's hand more than his sword could do. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE GENERAL by SIEGFRIED SASSOON THE SPELL OF THE YUKON by ROBERT WILLIAM SERVICE PSALM 54 by OLD TESTAMENT BIBLE THE FOUR ZOAS: NIGHTS THE THIRD AND FOURTH by WILLIAM BLAKE TO ROBERT SOUTHEY by MARIA GOWEN BROOKS |