My heart grows sick before the wide-spread death That walks and speaks in seeming life around; And I would love the corse without a breath, That sleeps forgotten 'neath the cold, cold ground; For these do tell the story of decay, The worm and rotten flesh hide not nor lie; But this, though dying too from day to day, With a false show doth cheat the longing eye; And hide the worm that gnaws the core of life, With painted cheek and smooth deceitful skin; Covering a grave with sights of darkness rife, A secret cavern filled with death and sin; And men walk o'er these graves and know it not, For in the body's health the soul's forgot. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE OLD MAN OF VERONA by CLAUDIAN BATTLE SONG by EBENEZER ELLIOTT LINES ON THE MERMAID TAVERN by JOHN KEATS THE SANDS OF DEE by CHARLES KINGSLEY THE VOYAGE TO VINLAND: 3. GUDRIDA'S PROPHECY by JAMES RUSSELL LOWELL NEW FRIENDS AND OLD FRIENDS by JOSEPH PARRY PAN IN WALL STREET by EDMUND CLARENCE STEDMAN |