HUSHED be sighing, near the string, O'er whose tremors deep we sing The youngest Death, who hath no fears, Blood, nor pang, nor any tears. Hushed be sighing! Fair and young as Venus' child, Only paler, and most mild; End of all that's dear and young, Thee we mean, soft Drop of roses; Hush of birds that sweetest sung, That beginn'st when music closes; The maiden's Dying! | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...BIRTHDAY POEM FOR THOMAS HARDY by CECIL DAY LEWIS THE BIRDS DO THUS by ROBERT FROST HOPE (1) by GEORGIA DOUGLAS JOHNSON AND SO, I THINK DIOGENES by AMY LOWELL A MENDOCINO MEMORY by EDWIN MARKHAM |