No sculptured marble here, nor pompous lay, "No storied urn nor animated bust;" This simple stone directs pale Scotia's way, To pour her sorrows o'er the Poet's dust. She mourns, sweet tuneful youth, thy hapless fate; Tho' all the powers of song thy fancy fired, Yet Luxury and Wealth lay by in state, And, thankless, starv'd what they so much admired. This tribute, with a tear, now gives A brother Bard -- he can no more bestow: But dear to fame thy Song immortal lives, A nobler monument than Art can shew. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...MY FATHER'S FACE by HAYDEN CARRUTH SONG OF TWO CROWS by HAYDEN CARRUTH THE EXISTING POOL by HAYDEN CARRUTH THE SEMANTICS OF FLOWERS ON MEMORIAL DAY by BOB HICOK A BANJO SONG by JAMES WELDON JOHNSON SUGGESTED BY THE COVER OF A VOLUME OF KEATS'S POEMS by AMY LOWELL A LETTER TO A POLICEMAN IN KANSAS CITY by KENNETH PATCHEN |