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Requiescat

Strew on her roses, roses,
And never a spray of yew.
In quiet she reposes:
Ah! would that I did too!

Her mirth the world required:
She bathed it in smiles of glee.
But her heart was tired, tired,
And now they let her be.

Her life was turning, turning,
In mazes of heat and sound.
But for peace her soul was yearning
And now peace laps her round.

Her cabin'd, ample Spirit,
It flutter'd and failed for breath,
Tonight it doth inherit
The vasty hall of Death.

(Matthew Arnold)

**
Oh! Snatch'd Away in Beauty's Bloom

Oh! snatch'd away in beauty's bloom,
On thee shall press no ponderous tomb;
But on thy turf shall roses rear
Their leaves, the earliest of the year;
And the wild cypress wave in tender gloom:

And oft by yon blue gushing stream
Shall Sorrow lean her drooping head,
And feed deep thought with many a dream,
And lingering pause and lightly tread;
Fond wretch! as if her step disturb'd the dead!

Away! we know that tears are vain,
That death nor heeds nor hears distress:
Will this unteach us to complain?
Or make one mourner weep the less?
And thou--who tell'st me to forget,
Thy looks are wan, thine eyes are wet.

(George Gordon, Lord Byron)

The Last Word

Creep into thy narrow bed,
Creep, and let no more be said!
Vain thy onset! all stands fast;
Thou thyself must break at last.

Let the long contention cease!
Geese are swans, and swans are geese.
Let them have it how they will!
Thou art tired; best be still!

They out-talk'd thee, hiss'd thee, tore thee?
Better men fared thus before thee;
Fired their ringing shot and pass'd,
Hotly charged--and broke at last.

Charge once more, then, and be dumb!
Let the victors, when they come,
When the forts of folly fall,
Find thy body by the wall.

(Matthew Arnold)

Well, here's an old and familiar favourite--Matthew Arnold's "Dover Beach"...:)  Two modern parodies follow!

Enjoy,
Cat

( All 3 poems under the cut for overall length: )