Epitaph On A Lap-Dog

IN wood and wild, ye warbling throng,
Your heavy loss deplore;
Now, half extinct your powers of song,
Sweet Echo is no more.

Ye jarring, screeching things around,
Scream your discordant joys;
Now, half your din of tuneless sound
With Echo silent lies.

by Robert Burns

Comments (7)

Beautiful poem. What an imagery! Thoughts like bees in lavender, - Thoughts gay and fragile as a robin's shell. Ah me, that has me bowled over! (10)
happy to read- - - love it
Yes Kim... I did make it through and it is a bit long for a poem. But it is so incredibly beautiful. Did you understand the message? Can the flower in the shade blame the flower in the sun? It is the penniless orphan, forced to work for nothing - viewing the rich girl on the park bench. And it's not about the orphan - but how the rich girl changed her view of the poor child. How incredibly beautiful this poem is. My thoughts while reading did include it's length, but mostly I wondered how it has come to be that this is my first encounter with Muriels' incredibly lovely vision. Again, thanks to the daily poem, I have fallen in love with another poet....
What a long poem. Those who say they loved it, that it is nice, a masterpiece, did you really make it all the way to the end? If it is such a masterpiece, why have the 11 voters so far only given it a rating of 5.9 out of ten?
what a nice poem..i love it
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