The Singer Poem by James Whitcomb Riley
The Singer
While with Ambition's hectic flame
He wastes the midnight oil,
And dreams, high-throned on heights of fame,
To rest him from his toil,--
Death's Angel, like a vast eclipse,
Above him spreads her wings,
And fans the embers of his lips
To ashes as he sings.
Friday, April 9, 2010
Topic(s) of this poem: angel,ashes,lips,wings
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8/19/2026 9:29:08 PM # rel_20260813T193622Z_3aad590
