A garden in a garden: a green spot Where all is green: most fitting slumber-place For the strong man grown weary of a race Soon over. Unto him a goodly lot Hath fallen in fertile ground; there thorns are not, But his own daisies: silence, full of grace, Surely hath shed a quiet on his face: His earth is but sweet leaves that fall and rot. What was his record of himself, ere he Went from us? @3Here lies one whose name was writ In water:@1 while the chilly shadows flit Of sweet Saint Agnes' Eve; while basil springs, His name, in every humble heart that sings, Shall be a fountain of love, verily. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...SEEN IN TWILIGHT by EDMUND CHARLES BLUNDEN ALFRED TENNYSON by WILFRID SCAWEN BLUNT DREAMS: ON THE HUNTING GROUND by DANIEL CHAUNCEY BREWER THE GODDESS IN THE WOOD by RUPERT BROOKE THE RICH YOUNG RULER QUESTIONS by WILLIAM E. BROOKS FOUR EPISTLES: MIRACLE AT THE FEAST OF PENTECOST: 3 by JOHN BYROM |