A Poet's Epitaph Poem by William Wordsworth

A Poet's Epitaph

Rating: 3.1


Art thou a Statist in the van
Of public conflicts trained and bred?
- First learn to love one living man;
'Then' may'st thou think upon the dead.

A Lawyer art thou? - draw not nigh!
Go, carry to some fitter place
The keenness of that practised eye,
The hardness of that sallow face.

Art thou a Man of purple cheer?
A rosy Man, right plump to see?
Approach; yet, Doctor, not too near,
This grave no cushion is for thee.

Or art thou one of gallant pride,
A Soldier and no man of chaff?
Welcome! - but lay thy sword aside,
And lean upon a peasant's staff.

Physician art thou? one, all eyes,
Philosopher! a fingering slave,
One that would peep and botanise
Upon his mother's grave?

Wrapt closely in thy sensual fleece,
O turn aside,- and take, I pray,
That he below may rest in peace,
Thy ever-dwindling soul, away!

A Moralist perchance appears;
Led, Heaven knows how! to this poor sod:
And he has neither eyes nor ears;
Himself his world, and his own God;

One to whose smooth-rubbed soul can cling
Nor form, nor feeling, great or small;
A reasoning, self-sufficing thing,
An intellectual All-in-all!

Shut close the door; press down the latch;
Sleep in thy intellectual crust;
Nor lose ten tickings of thy watch
Near this unprofitable dust.

But who is He, with modest looks,
And clad in homely russet brown?
He murmurs near the running brooks
A music sweeter than their own.

He is retired as noontide dew,
Or fountain in a noon-day grove;
And you must love him, ere to you
He will seem worthy of your love.

The outward shows of sky and earth,
Of hill and valley, he has viewed;
And impulses of deeper birth
Have come to him in solitude.

In common things that round us lie
Some random truths he can impart,-
The harvest of a quiet eye
That broods and sleeps on his own heart.

But he is weak; both Man and Boy,
Hath been an idler in the land;
Contented if he might enjoy
The things which others understand.

- Come hither in thy hour of strength;
Come, weak as is a breaking wave!
Here stretch thy body at full length;
Or build thy house upon this grave.

A Poet's Epitaph
COMMENTS OF THE POEM
Crystal Star 01 April 2014

Go, carry to some fitter place The keenness of that practised eye, The hardness of that sallow face. Come hither in thy hour of strength; Come, weak as is a breaking wave! Here stretch thy body at full length; Or build thy house upon this grave Lovely [3

3 3 Reply
Stephen Fitzsimmons 08 October 2013

most of these wordsworth poems are written with the wrong wording. I am holding a wordsworth book and the poems on this site do not match what is in my book

3 2 Reply
* Sunprincess * 01 February 2014

......a beautiful rhyming poem...

2 3 Reply
oioioioioioioioioi 06 May 2020

pooop poopp poopp poppp

2 2 Reply

Thoreau introduced me to Wordsworth [in his essay 'On the Duty of Resistance to Civil Gov't]. I strive to be this poem personified.

1 2 Reply
Sylvia Frances Chan 16 November 2023

EIGHT: CONGRATULATIONS being chosen as The Classic Poem Of The Day. Also to the family of the late great poet 5 Stars!

0 0 Reply
Sylvia Frances Chan 16 November 2023

ONE: A tribute to a fellow poet. The speaker reflects on the poet's legacy and how their work will live on after they are gone.

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Sylvia Frances Chan 16 November 2023

TWO: The poem is a moving tribute to a dedicated artist and emphasizes the importance of art and creativity.

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Sylvia Frances Chan 16 November 2023

THREE: The theme of the poem is the power of poetry and the importance of preserving the legacy of poets. The poem also emphasizes the idea that poets are not only artists, but also thinkers and philosophers

0 0 Reply
Sylvia Frances Chan 16 November 2023

. FOUR: The poem is written in the traditional form of poetry often used for narrative poems and songs.

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William Wordsworth

William Wordsworth

Cumberland / England
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