Lament

Listen, children:
Your father is dead.
From his old coats
I'll make you little jackets;
I'll make you little trousers
From his old pants.
There'll be in his pockets
Things he used to put there,
Keys and pennies
Covered with tobacco;
Dan shall have the pennies
To save in his bank;
Anne shall have the keys
To make a pretty noise with.
Life must go on,
And the dead be forgotten;
Life must go on,
Though good men die;
Anne, eat your breakfast;
Dan, take your medicine;
Life must go on;
I forget just why.

by Edna St. Vincent Millay

Comments (2)

I love this piece! It says so much. there is a time to grieve but then life goes on. It's the way of the world.
I love the irony in the title. It's a lament but it's not really if life must go on like it says in the poem.