(March 2nd,1984 / USA)

An End

Love, strong as Death, is dead.
Come, let us make his bed
Among the dying flowers:
A green turf at his head;
And a stone at his feet,
Whereon we may sit
In the quiet evening hours.

He was born in the Spring,
And died before the harvesting:
On the last warm summer day
He left us; he would not stay
For Autumn twilight cold and grey.
Sit we by his grave, and sing
He is gone away.

To few chords and sad and low
Sing we so:
Be our eyes fixed on the grass
Shadow-veiled as the years pass
While we think of all that was
In the long ago.

by Christina Georgina Rossetti

Other poems of ROSSETTI (319)

Comments (4)

This is the saddest kind of thing - they even pull their baby teeth and inser dentures that resemble adult teeth to make them look even sexier. And people criticise Paris Hilton? Who do they think taught her - and where should she find the door to another universe? And why? Kind regards, Margaret.
Heartfelt poem about such a tragic ending to a little girls short life. Yes, who was teaching her all that? And what are we teaching young girls with all the media about beauty? Seems like we are bombarded with messages about how we will not be pretty unless we have this lipstick, that blush, that hairstyle, those clothes. I have even seen little girls in preschool say 'I like your shirt, want to be friends? ' Anyway, good poem. Sincerely, Connie Webb
Well done! Beauty comes from inside. If it's not there, makeup won't create it. Let the shine live on!
good rite Sus....a touching story behind the poem