BUT twelve short years you lived, my son, Just twelve short years, and then you died: And now your life's brief course is run, This grave a father's hopes doth hide. (@3G. B. Grundy@1) | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...CHAMBER MUSIC: 31 by JAMES JOYCE DINNER IN A QUICK LUNCH ROOM by STEPHEN VINCENT BENET ONE OF THE LEAST OF THESE, MY LITTLE ONE' by GEORGIA DOUGLAS JOHNSON TO BAYARD TAYLOR by SIDNEY LANIER ITALIAN PICTURES: COSTA MAGIC by MINA LOY SPOON RIVER ANTHOLOGY: HILDRUP TUBBS by EDGAR LEE MASTERS |