William Bell Scott
To The Dead - Poem by William Bell Scott
Gone art thou? gone, and is the light of day
Still shining, is my hair not touched with grey?
But evening draweth nigh, I pass the door,
And see thee walking on the dim-lit shore.
Gone, art thou? gone, and weary on the brink
Of Lethe waiting there. O do not drink,
Drink not, forget not, wait a little while,
I shall be with thee; we again may smile.
Comments about To The Dead by William Bell Scott
Read this poem in other languages
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
Still I Rise
The Road Not Taken
If You Forget Me
Edgar Allan Poe
Stopping By Woods On A Snowy Evening
I Do Not Love You Except Because I Love You