PEACE, peace ! I know 'twas brave ;
But this coarse fleece,
I shelter in, is slave
To no such piece.
When I am gone,
I shall no wardrobes leave
To friend, or son,
But what their own homes weave.
Such, though not proud nor full,
May make them weep,
And mourn to see the wool
Outlast the sheep :
Poor, pious wear !
Hadst thou been rich, or fine,
Perhaps that tear
Had mourn'd thy loss, not mine.
Why then these curl'd, puff'd points,
Or a laced story ?
Death sets all out of joint,
And scorns their glory.
Some love a rose
In hand, some in the skin ;
But, cross to those,
I would have mine within.
Read this poem in other languages
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
Comments about this poem (Content by Henry Vaughan )
The Road Not Taken
If You Forget Me
Still I Rise
Edgar Allan Poe
Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening
I Know Why The Caged Bird Sings
William Ernest Henley
- A New Freedom, RoseAnn V. Shawiak
- Bluened Tones, RoseAnn V. Shawiak
- Y/.. Thirst, Aufie Zophy
- Enchanting Essence And Passion, RoseAnn V. Shawiak
- Y/.. Much more, Aufie Zophy
- Awaiting Universe Claims A Seconds Thought, Terence G. Craddock
- Crying Sun, Bill Cantrell
- Opening Wisdom, RoseAnn V. Shawiak
- MAN LIVES ONE TIME ON OUR EARTH الانسان .., MOHAMMAD SKATI
- Touching Intellect, RoseAnn V. Shawiak