(13 April, 1854 – 6 April, 1907 / Mohill, County Leitrim)

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A Lament

My thoughts hold mortal strife;
I do detest my life,
And with lamenting cries
Peace to my soul to bring
Oft call that prince which here doth monarchize:
But he, grim grinning King,
Who caitiffs scorns, and doth the blest surprise,
Late having decked with beauty's rose his tomb,
Disdains to crop a weed, and will not come.

Submitted: Monday, January 13, 2003


Read poems about / on: rose, peace, beauty, life

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