I DIGGED thy grave in my memory Years ago,oh! years ago! And for oblivion over thee The poppies grow, the poppies grow. But still, when Hesperus is high, Pansies for thoughts I drop thereby, And let them lie, and let them lie, Since from thy bitter I drew sweet. Yet are the pansies at thy feet, The pansies pale thy head above Not sown of Love, not sown of Love. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE RIVALS by JAMES WELDON JOHNSON THE SONG OF THE SHEPHERDS by EDWIN MARKHAM DOMESDAY BOOK: ARCHIBALD LOWELL by EDGAR LEE MASTERS HOMAGE TO SEXTUS PROPERTIUS: 12 by EZRA POUND THE FABRIC OF LIFE by KAY RYAN CALIFORNIA CITY LANDSCAPE by CARL SANDBURG SURFACE AND STRUCTURE: BONAVENTURE HOTEL, LOS ANGELES by KAREN SWENSON |