Honest Iago. When his breath was fled Doubtless these words were carven at his head. Such lying epitaphs are like a rose That in unlovely earth takes root and grows. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...SEVEN TWILIGHTS: 4 by CONRAD AIKEN THEY ACCUSE ME OF NOT TALKING by HAYDEN CARRUTH ROMANCE by GEORGIA DOUGLAS JOHNSON DEAR OLD DICK by EDGAR LEE MASTERS INFERENTIAL by EDWIN ARLINGTON ROBINSON KILLED IN ACTION by ISAAC ROSENBERG |