IN HELEN'S house (Ulysses counted dead) The hearts of all by sorrow's wave were swept, And host and guests, unshamed, together wept, Yet wept not all for great Ulysses sped: Though plenteous tears the youth from Pylos shed, Seizing the tearful chance like grief's adept, He mourned his own, his brother dear, who slept Where hostile soil with best Greek blood was fed. Thus I -- if fortune would so far befriend To hither bring some spirit scourged sore, Some wrong that loudly knocks at pity's door -- Might seem in charity those tears to spend, That otherwise I dare not let descend To ease my heart of grief's occulted store! | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...TO HIS MISTRESS by ROBERT HERRICK THE ORACLES by ALFRED EDWARD HOUSMAN THE RUBAIYAT, 1889 EDITION: 19 by OMAR KHAYYAM ON A PIECE OF TAPESTRY by GEORGE SANTAYANA CROSSING BROOKLYN FERRY by WALT WHITMAN DIRGE FOR THE LATE JAMES CURRIE, M.D., OF LIVERPOOL by LUCY AIKEN YOUTH AND AGE by GEORGE ARNOLD |