Skip to main content
Thou liest dead,—lie on: of thee
No sweet remembrances shall be,
Who never plucked Pierian rose,
Who never chanced on Anterôs.
Unknown, unnoticed, there below
Through Aides' houses shalt thou go
Alone,—for never a flitting ghost
Shall find in thee a lover lost.
Rate this poem
No votes yet
Reviews
No reviews yet.