No more the white refulgent streets, Never the dry gutters of the mind, Shall he in hellish boredom walk Again, for death is not unkind. The graceless madness of her lips, Who was the powder-puff of life, Cannot rouge those cheeks nor warm His cold corpuscles back to strife. What did he gain? What did he lose? These questions for the pious dead Are blown from bosoms of kind souls - A scented sorrow, corseted! | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...TEARS AND KISSES by GEORGIA DOUGLAS JOHNSON THE STARLING; SONNET by AMY LOWELL ON LIVING, FROM LIFE IS A DREAM by PEDRO CALDERON DE LA BARCA VASHTI by FRANCES ELLEN WATKINS HARPER ONE CROWDED HOUR, FR. OLD MORTALITY by WALTER SCOTT |