AND can it be on the relentless blast The Last Leaf has blown by -- the tree is bare? Strange was the chill that shivered on the air, As if an unclothed soul were hurrying past, In search of some new region strange and vast -- Some Country unexplored, where dead men fare, Assuaged of Life, and all Life's carking care, To the Great Rapture, waiting them at last. He may be glad for whom the Heavens ope, And the New Day shines royally and clear -- But we, who mourn him and shall mourn him long, For what meet consolation shall we hope -- Or whither shall our sorrow turn for cheer, Bereft of our dear Singer, and his song? | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...FINIS by GEORGIA DOUGLAS JOHNSON THE STIRRUP-CUP by LOUIS UNTERMEYER THE LAST POST by ROBERT RANKE GRAVES THE LAST MAN: EXTREME ACCLIVITY by THOMAS LOVELL BEDDOES TO ALEXIS IN ANSWER TO HIS POEM AGAINST FRUITION by APHRA BEHN |