FAIR Canace this little tomb doth hide, Who only seven Decembers told and died. O cruelty! O sin! yet no man here Must for so short a life let fall a tear; Than death the kind was worse, what did infect First seiz'd her mouth, and spoil'd her sweet aspect: A horrid ill her kisses bit away, And gave her almost lipless to the clay. If Destiny so swift a flight did will her, It might have found some other way to kill her; But Death first struck her dumb, in haste to have her, Lest her sweet tongue should force the Fates to save her. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...SPOON RIVER ANTHOLOGY: COLUMBUS CHENEY by EDGAR LEE MASTERS SPOON RIVER ANTHOLOGY: JONAS KEENE by EDGAR LEE MASTERS SPOON RIVER ANTHOLOGY: JUDGE SELAH LIVELY by EDGAR LEE MASTERS A DIALOGUE BETWEEN TWO SHEPHERDS IN PRAISE OF ASTRAEA by MARY SIDNEY HERBERT |