Much as he left it when he went from us, Here was the room again where he had been So long that something of him should be seen Or felt -- and so it was. Incredulous, I turned about, loath to be greeted thus, And there he was in his old chair, serene As ever, and as laconic and as lean As when he lived, and as cadaverous. Calm as he was of old when we were young, He sat there gazing at the pallid flame Before him. "And how far will this go on?" I thought. He felt the failure of my tongue, And smiled: "I was not here until you came; And I shall not be here when you are gone." | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE BURNING OF THE TEMPLE by ISAAC ROSENBERG FIRST-DAY THOUGHTS by JOHN GREENLEAF WHITTIER CLIO, NINE ECLOGUES IN HONOUR OF NINE VIRTUES: DEDICATION TO R. WENMAN by WILLIAM BASSE TO THE HONOURABLE AND VIRTUOUS LADY, THE LADY TASBURGH by WILLIAM BASSE THE LAST MAN: MEDITATION by THOMAS LOVELL BEDDOES TO MRS W. ON HER EXCELLENT VERSES WRITTEN IN A FIT OF SICKNESS by APHRA BEHN |