A TRACT of land swept by the salt seafoam, Fringed with acacia flowers and billowy deep, In meadow-grasses, where tall poppies sleep, And bees athirst for wilding honey roam, How many a bleeding heart hath found its home, Under these hillocks which the seamews sweep! Here knelt an outcast race to curse and weep, Age after age, 'neath heaven's unanswering dome. Sad is the place and solemn. Grave by grave, Lost in the dunes, with rank weeds overgrown, Pines in abandonment; as though unknown, Uncared for, lay the dead, whose records pave This path neglected; each forgotten stone Wept by no mourner but the moaning wave. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...WHERE SHALL THE BABY'S DIMPLE BE? by JOSIAH GILBERT HOLLAND AT A READING by THOMAS BAILEY ALDRICH A RIDDLE by ANNA LETITIA BARBAULD OUT OF DARKNESS by HARRY RANDOLPH BLYTHE THREE MINUS ONE (REFRAIN SUGGESTED BY DR. RICHARD HOFFMAN) by BERTON BRALEY |