Explore Poems GO!

Irony

Why are the things that have no death
The ones with neither sight nor breath!
Eternity is thrust upon
A bit of earth, a senseless stone.
A grain of dust, a casual clod
Receives the greatest gift of God.
A pebble in the roadway lies—
It never dies.

The grass our fathers cut away

Is growing on their graves to-day;
Read More

READ THIS POEM IN OTHER LANGUAGES
COMMENTS OF THE POEM