Her heart that loved me once is rottenness Now and corruption; and her life is dead That was to have been one with mine she said. The earth must lie with such a cruel stress On her eyes where the white lids used to press; Foul worms fill up her mouth so sweet and red; Foul worms are underneath her graceful head. Yet these, being born of her from nothingness These worms are certainly flesh of her flesh. -- How is it that the grass is rank and green, And the dew dropping rose is brave and fresh Above what was so sweeter far than they? Even as her beauty hath passed quite away Their's too shall be as tho' it had not been. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...SONNETS FROM THE PORTUGUESE: 35 by ELIZABETH BARRETT BROWNING THE NEED OF BEING VERSED IN COUNTRY THINGS by ROBERT FROST TO A DOG'S MEMORY by LOUISE IMOGEN GUINEY ALMS by EDNA ST. VINCENT MILLAY A FAREWELL TO LONDON IN THE YEAR 1715 by ALEXANDER POPE AN ADDRESS TO THE DEITY by ANNA LETITIA BARBAULD THE BABY-HOUSE by ANNA LETITIA BARBAULD SONGS OF NIGHT TO MORNING: 1. AT THE THEATRE by GEORGE BARLOW (1847-1913) |