MY birthplace was of Syria, The Attic haunt of Gadara; My foster-nurse was island Tyre, And Eucrates I own for sire. By Muses' help the first to vie With Menippean Graces, I Am Meleager. Yes, and what If Syrian? Stranger, marvel not. Own we not all one common earth? One chaos brought us all to birth. Now full of years these lines I trace, Here with my burial face to face: In House of Eld who sojourneth Hath for his next-door neighbour Death. Bid an old garrulous man 'good-bye'; Such garrulous age mayest thou enjoy. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE SPIRES OF OXFORD by WINIFRED MARY LETTS SONNET: 21 by JAMES RUSSELL LOWELL SONNET: 73 by WILLIAM SHAKESPEARE PEARLS OF THE FAITH: 45. ALLAH-AL-MUJIB by EDWIN ARNOLD NEW YORK CITY by MAXWELL BODENHEIM |