Sword in hand he was slain; The snow his winding sheet; The grinding ice at his feet -- The river moaning in pain. Pity and peace at last; Flowers for him today Above on the battlements gray -- And the river rolling past. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...COLORADO MORTON'S RIDE by LEONARD BACON (1887-1954) THE POPLAR FIELD by WILLIAM COWPER RESURRECTION, IMPERFECT by JOHN DONNE THE CHINESE NIGHTINGALE; A SONG IN CHINESE TAPESTRIES by NICHOLAS VACHEL LINDSAY SONNET PREFIXED TO 'NENNIO, OR A TREATISE OF NOBILITY' by EDMUND SPENSER THE MAIMED DEBAUCHEE by JOHN WILMOT A JEWISH FAMILY; IN A SMALL VALLEY OPPOSITE ST. GOAR by WILLIAM WORDSWORTH |