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The Grave Of Shelley

Rating: 3.0

LIKE burnt-out torches by a sick man's bed
Gaunt cypress-trees stand round the sun-bleached stone;
Here doth the little night-owl make her throne,
And the slight lizard show his jewelled head.
And, where the chaliced poppies flame to red,
In the still chamber of yon pyramid
Surely some Old-World Sphinx lurks darkly hid,
Grim warder of this pleasaunce of the dead.

Ah! sweet indeed to rest within the womb

Of Earth, great mother of eternal sleep,
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COMMENTS OF THE POEM
Amar Agarwala 10 December 2017

Oscar Wilde was a poet - par excellence. His tribute here to Shelley is a measure only a masterly poet can bestow upon another.

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Fabrizio Frosini 22 April 2016

The grave of Shelley is in the same Cemetery where Keats is buried (Non-Chatolic Cemetery, in Rome)

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Sagnik Chakraborty 26 October 2009

Excellent! A befitting lyrical portrait of the final resting place of the ashes of the 'restless' volcano that was Shelley. A masterly tribute to an unparalleled master.

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