'TIS not to force more tears from your sad eye That we write thus -- that were a piety Turn'd guilt and sin; we only beg to come And pay due tribute to his sacred tomb. The Muses did divide his love with you, And justly, therefore, may be mourners too. Instead of cypress, they have brought fresh bays To crown his urn, and every dirge is praise. But since with him the learned tongues are gone, Necessity here makes us use our own. Read in his praise your own -- you cannot miss, For he was but our wonder -- you were his. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...SCHOOLS OF LITTLE FISH by MARVIN BELL MANHATTAN, 1609 by EDWIN MARKHAM REMEMBERING NAT TURNER by STERLING ALLEN BROWN ONLY A WOMAN by DINAH MARIA MULOCK CRAIK TWO AT A FIRESIDE by EDWIN MARKHAM THE GROVES OF BLARNEY by RICHARD ALFRED MILLIKIN THE YOUNG MAY MOON by THOMAS MOORE |